


Fear, Hunger, Love, and Piety

by HarryMasonFan



Series: Fear & Hunger Everybody Lives AU [3]
Category: Fear & Hunger (Video Game)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarryMasonFan/pseuds/HarryMasonFan
Summary: A roleplay between me, dieMuttergans, and a third friend that wishes to remain anonymousPart of the 'Fear & Hunger Everybody Lives AU', though there may be slight inconsistencies with the two previous storiesI am Enki and Ragnvaldrdie is D'arce and Le'gardeMutual is Cahara
Relationships: Cahara / Celeste, D'arce / Le'garde, Enki / Ragnvaldr
Series: Fear & Hunger Everybody Lives AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542745
Kudos: 1





	Fear, Hunger, Love, and Piety

D’arce had taken her leave quite quickly after their liberation from the dungeons of Fear & Hunger. The smell of grass and soil and life overwhelmed her senses and left her standing static for the longest time, glancing back at the dungeon’s maw alongside her three companions. Wherever her next mission may be, it would not be discovered idling in the windy fields outside of Rondon - and so she decided to abandon them, bowing her head and thanking them graciously for saving her life, tossing out a cursory prayer that they all found what they were looking for in the coming years.

When Le’garde returned from the prisons months later, donning his old armor and newfound heavenly aura, things began to change. Of course Rondon itself would be shaken to its very core; People on the streets whispered rumors about having seen the Yellow King himself, how he had smiled at their families, supposedly healed the sick, united stubborn kingdoms with a wave of his hand - but they only saw what the devoted captain had wanted them to see. For D’arce, there had been a twisting sense of unease ever since Le’garde had accepted his ascension. She had felt this way long before the dungeons, truthfully, long before they had stepped into Ma’havre and sliced their way to the top of the food chain. Something had evolved within the captain of the Midnight Suns - it had laid dormant inside of him, deceiving her with his youthful charm and toothy grins before finally hooking itself into his heart, leeching off of his dreams and driving him mad with a desire that she hadn’t quite understood before his imprisonment. 

Despite this, however - despite waking up in her tent after dozens of hellish nightmares and bad omens, despite Le’garde brushing off her warnings about the invasion of Vinland, despite the entire kingdom revolting against his unforgivable actions - D’arce came back for him. Always.

It had been years since she had left the dungeons, and she had since cut all ties with the men that had kept her safe and sane. There had been no time for formal get-togethers and reunions after the Yellow King had touched down and beckoned for her services back. And how could she say no to her captain? To her friend? To her never-to-be lover?

That same, twisting doubt had been present in D’arce’s stomach the day the Midnight Suns rode back into Rondon. Townsfolk flocked to their street corners just to catch a glimpse of the God himself riding first horse, his loyal army trailing behind him in silence. Some of them pointed; Some of them cheered and waved at him; Others dropped to their knees and clasped their hands over their heads as his eyes passed over them in disinterest, begging for miracles and forgiveness and petty wishes to be granted before their imminent demise.

D’arce hadn’t meant to lock eyes with the Outlander on this trip - and surely, she hadn’t anticipated the steely gaze of the Dark Priest directly beside him in the crowd. It had startled her into attention at once, straightening her spine and causing her to go slack jawed at the sight. She wanted desperately to dismount her horse at that very moment and speak to them personally - “Hello” sounded too drab in her head, but everything else felt boorish and of poor taste given who she was riding behind. Sure enough, their gazes abandoned her as the captain himself trotted by; D’arce didn’t need to hear their reasoning to understand the venom behind their eyes as they watched him. They had always thought him to be a snake. A manipulator. A parasite.

D’arce suddenly didn’t feel so sick. She didn’t feel anything as she righted her gaze straight ahead, riding through the streets with a newfound purpose.

That very same day, shortly after finding respite for the evening, the lone knight breaks away from her group to roam the soggy streets of Rondon. She speaks to many common folk along the way, asking for directions and information as she passes by their cramped cottages and dimly-lit lanterns. Her destination, if the locals haven’t steered her wrong, is just ahead now. A simple two-story home, the chimney billowing smoke and grass sparse in their garden. The stones beneath her boots crackle as she approaches the door, thumping her fist into the wood and waiting patiently for any sign of movement at the windows. 

It was finally time to have a reunion.

…

Leaving behind the dungeons of Fear & Hunger was not so easy. There was something clinging to his shoulders, making him look back and Rondon’s streets became infested with not only the evils from the dungeons themselves, but the beautiful captain became more. He became King. The King on the beautiful, white mare with his troops of knights that followed him with nary a scratch in their shining armor. His crown was beautiful, wearing itself proudly upon his head that was once inches away from death if they hadn’t saved him. 

The mercenary watched the flooded streets from the window, seeing smiles and wary glances. People dropped to their knees like he was a god that would save them all from their trifles. 

Cahara glanced away from the dirty window, eyeing the woman that was resting in her bed, hands over her pregnant belly. The mercenary, on the other hand, took the liberty to care for his own personals, his own life. He didn’t need some pretty boy to look up to when someone like Celeste and her children were suffering.

Once again, the only higher up he had ever tried to put his neck out for didn’t care for him. He sure as hell wouldn’t care if Celeste lost her children, or if she was taken away from him during her labour into death’s arms. 

He stood up, brushing her bangs from her face while eyeing the blanket wrapped around her stomach. The time of birth was both coming swiftly and not swiftly enough. Everytime he thought about it, he felt sweat troubling itself on his brow and his lips pulling themselves into a stressed, white line. Sometimes he had nightmares; nightmares where the baby was stillborn, or Celeste died; nightmares where he came to take away his child when barely able to scream for the mother’s milk. 

Cahara kneeled at the foot of the bed and set his head on the edge of it.

Ever since he had left those dungeons, he had never felt more alone in his troubled Kingdom.

The knock at the door made him stand straight immediately. His sad face was gone, his hands were brushing off his leather vest and he was wandering up to the door with a smile that could make women swoon. Save for one that was there as soon as he opened the door.

“Hello, what can I-” And he froze. “Dollface?”

~~~

Ah. There he was. He had hardly changed a bit, despite the years of silence between them. D’arce forces a weak, tight-lipped smile back in greeting, squaring her shoulders as he looked her over. “Hello, Cahara. You look well; May I come in?”

The Knight’s head bows politely as she steps in and catches sight of Celeste resting nearby. Her heart swells at the thought of Cahara’s family still ever-growing; The dungeons might have rattled him, but they certainly haven’t slowed his stride. It’s a blessing to see.

She never seats herself as she speaks, instead slowly wandering the downstairs and peering at how comfortable the Mercenary has made his nest in the years since freedom. Sitting down would make this seem like a visit of leisure - this is business, unfortunately. 

“I know that I haven’t kept in contact with you since… you know - and I am sure that I must be asking quite a bit from you at such an awful time,” she begins, eyes flitting over to Celeste’s swollen belly. “But… I need to go back. To the dungeons. And I don’t know if I can do it alone - I tried to do it alone the first time and it went so poorly, you know - and I know that we butt heads quite a bit, but we worked well together in battle.”

As she speaks, she begins to untie a large drawstring purse from her belt, extending the bag out to him. It’s got a hefty weight to it and jingles as she shakes it in offering. “I know that you never got your payment the last time you risked your life in the prisons; I’d like to remedy that this time around personally. Payment up front: One hundred and twenty silver, enough to help you start your family proper.” 

Her voice lowers, brows lacing together as she catches his eyes sternly. “Please, Cahara. I know that I haven’t been there for you recently, nor for the Priest or Outlander, but I need you to say yes to me just this once. It’s more important than you could ever know. It could benefit the lives of you, your children, and everyone else in Rondon. Take my word for this.”  
….

She came in and he was immediately suspicious. A part of him screamed that she wanted him to pay taxes, or that there was an order that he was to be put into the military or tried. Consequence after consequence came into his mind and his weapons weighed even more on his body, reminding him that all he had to do was slit her throat if he needed to. He didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to whenever he was first born on the streets of Jettaiah. Did she really care for him either?

Then she speaks of the dungeons. Back to the dungeons, she says. There’s something in her blue eyes that made him believe that this wasn’t something she wanted to do, something she would rather take a step back from. But her pride and her morals were on the line. She had to be a knight. 

Money came into play, as per usual. On instinct, he accepted the payment and immediately felt the weight of what wealth felt like. But nothing was heavier than the words she said to him in that she needed his help back in those damned dungeons. Where people merged together through their skin, guards took advantage of their souls and bodies, limbs were lost, death was release and safety and anyone who struggled through the torture no longer prevailed. It was the dungeons of Rondon. And here he was, getting paid by a Rondon knight to go into a place that they had birthed by their own evil doings.

Cahara looked to the sleeping Celeste, who no doubt was stirring at the sounds of speech. Benefit everyone in Rondon? He didn’t believe that for a second.

“And what of L-” He stopped himself. “And what of His Highness? Wait, no.” He shook his head. “Nevermind. I’m sure he has too much on his plate, right? I bet you’d know first hand.” It was almost a stab as he stared at his girlfriend, weighing everything on an internal scale. 

If this all truly benefited Rondon, he didn’t believe it. Le’garde probably didn’t care for him and neither did D’arce. All he was going to do was die a painful death and leave the children to get eaten by Pocketcat, or even worse. All he would do was leave behind everything he had and go into a place he had risked his neck in before. 

He would certainly die.

“D’arce,” he said, “I’m going to be honest with you.” He held the pouch back out towards her. “I can’t. I don’t think His Highness cares enough about the wellbeing of anyone who lives in the slums. You never talked to any of us, either.” And that was as brief as he was going to be. No one cared about sob stories back here. They were all the same. “My answer is “no.””

~~~

D’arce’s immediate reflex was to wince at the mention of her captain’s name, knowing far too well the reputation he had in the eyes of her old teammates. Cahara had every right to feel suspicious about her vaguish explanations, even more so now given how they had only rode in hours prior, but he was certainly not her second choice on this mission. Still, the way that he begins to weigh the bribe in his hands gives her hope that her lack of communication wouldn’t be the breaker on her request...

But he rejects it. The Mercenary offers her no explanation as he extends the purse back to her, shaking his head firmly. There’s an immediate sting of betrayal that hits her at his response - she knows that it isn’t meant to be personal: The moment she had stepped in to the home and seen the state of Celeste, she knew it would be an uphill battle. The scale had been tipped out of her favor long before she opened her mouth to suggest the trip. 

“Le’garde... is not aware of my upcoming trip to Ma’havre,” she croaks out, trying her damndest not to sound defeated so early on. “It would defeat the purpose if he was aware of my intentions, considering he is the reason that I am risking my life to go back. You know that I do hate to give you the satisfaction of such a thing, but… you were right, I think. About him.

“Keep the silver,” she continues, gently pushing the pouch back into his hands. “Consider it a - oh, what would it be? - a late housewarming gift, since I never was able to congratulate you on such a thing.”

With nothing left to offer the man before her D’arce passes him and reaches for the door, feeling the chill of metal through her glove. She turns only briefly, bowing her head once more before departing, “Thank you for your hospitality - and for humoring my request, even a little. Send a prayer to Alll-mer for me tonight, if it crosses your mind.”

And, without another word, the Knight stands tall and exits the home, her figure slowly vanishing into the foggy night as she began her journey to the gates of Rondon. 

~~~

The prison guard moaned in agony as it was toppled, falling to the dungeon floor with a thud. These creatures, which had once instilled so much terror into both Enki and Ragnvaldr, now seemed trivial.

“That was too easy”

The Dark Priest said with a mix of cockiness and disbelief. The Outlander looked over to him with a small nod.

“It will only get harder from here, we can’t let our guard down”

“Are you making a pun?”

“What? No. Don’t jest, you’re terrible at it”

Enki smirked. Whatever helped to keep that lingering sense of dread at bay would be put to use, even if it left him sounding as undignified as the Mercenary. He looked down one of the long hallways of the dungeon and his thoughts trailed off a bit.

“I wonder what Nosramus has been doing…”

Ragnvaldr smiled gently at the Priest’s pondering

“You admire him, don’t you?”

“In a sense, but now I’ve found greater purpose than just the pursuit of knowledge”

The two shared a knowing look, then they raided the corpse for all it was worth and headed further into the dungeons.

They had only travelled a little ways when they came across another fallen guard, one that they had not slain. Both could feel the hairs on the backs of their necks begin to rise at the thought of who else could be here with them. Ragnvaldr attempted an explanation

“Could it be from our last time here?”

“I doubt it. Surely it would have decayed by now?”

Though Enki could not guarantee that, given all of the arcane properties of the dungeon. 

There was a small trail of blood leading away from the corpse, going around a bend not far from their position. They both became quiet as they made their way over, gripping their weapons tightly in case of a surprise attack.

~~~

The trek it took to reach the dungeons was far shorter than anticipated. Selfishly, the Knight found herself slowing her pace as the gates came into sight, soaking in the last fleeting feelings of happiness she would feel before it would inevitably be drained out of her very soul. The cobblestone is no more weathered than the last time she had been here, only disrupted by the dragging of her boots as she approaches the doors. 

This was it.

One lone knight of the Midnight Suns against everything Ma’havre could possibly throw at her.

Once D’arce’s fingers wrapped around that door clasp, everything that followed was second nature. If she was fast, she was being efficient; If she was efficient, she was less likely to die; If she was less likely to die, she was guaranteed to at least enter The City of the Gods, if not speak to them herself. 

She had done this once before and lived to tell the tale. She could do it again. She would. She had to.

She had made it as far as the grand hall’s study before her first confrontation: A prison guard, naturally, sweating and groaning as he adjusted a cleaver in his meaty paw. She had tried her damndest to outrun the bastard, to no avail, forcing her to unsheath her longsword from its resting place along her hip. After years of abstinence, the polished metal would finally taste blood once again.

The brawl nearly cost her an arm - but, finally, at the repercussions of a missed charge, the beast collapsed, losing its head after one last critical slash from her trusty weapon. She didn’t bother to loot the damned thing - they never had anything of value, nor anything that she would allow to weigh her down on her trip. Her boots are heavily stained in the remains of the guard and stick to the concrete floors as she enters the study, finding sudden leisure time as she peruses the bookcases for anything of benefit.

This is where she had met the Dark Priest years ago. He had never grown fond of her, despite being forced into closed quarters with her for half of his journey. His educational gain was far more important than making bonds with the people he travelled with - she could respect that, in a way.

D’arce is pulled out of her thoughts at the sound of voices outside of the chamber. It seizes her hands against the spine of a book, stiffening her posture as she attempts to decipher the words and tones of the strangers. There are two of them, at least, muttering to one another along the same wall that she had slain her beast. Was it Nosramus? Rondon guards? Or some other poor soul drawn into the dungeons, just as she had once fallen victim to?

She is quick to slip behind one of the bookcases, gazing through the gaps as she watches the door for movement, fingers hovering over the handle of her sword. She may have been outnumbered… but maybe not outwitted. Not yet.

~~~

Ragnvaldr is first to enter the room, his bow drawn but not lifted upward. Enki is right behind him, short sword in one hand, the other ready to summon any necessary incantation. They both scan the room quickly, and upon finding no immediate threat Ragnvaldr releases the tension in his bow, but does not yet put it away. Enki is more quick to relax, never wanting to hold that hunk of metal longer than he has to. 

Ragnvaldr looks down at the ground, noticing how the trail of blood suddenly, and crudely, stops

“We’re not alone in here…”

Enki does not reach for his sword again, more comfortable relying on magic as his gaze grows cold and he calls out

“Show yourself, we’ve no time for such foolishness!”

~~~

Her breath hitches in her throat as two men round the corner, weapons in hand. It isn't the weapons that startle her, however - it's the men. It's them - The Outlander and The Dark Priest, Ragnvaldr and Enki - and they're here. D'arce's eyes bulge as she watches them through musty books. For a moment she attempts to blink them away, brushing them off as a mere hallucination of the dungeons, but they still breathe and speak and live, mere feet away from her! 

A mysterious fate had brought them together years before. What were the odds that they would all be here again simultaneously? 

Enki's venomous words still cause her to flinch, even to this day. Ragnvaldr has not put down his weapon, either. Did she not forfeit now, it may very well cost her her life. And, so, with hands raised gingerly above her ears, D'arce takes a small step out of cover, meeting the cold gazes of her past teammates. Her boots and armor still show evidence of her kill, deeming her the only body that could have taken down the guard behind them. 

Her lips part by a fraction as she practices all of the things she had meant to say in years gone by. By the time she finds her voice, though, all that escapes her is a sheepish, 

"... Hello again."

~~~

The eyes of both men widen in surprise as D’arce, second-in-command of the Knights of the Midnight Sun, comes into view. For a few seconds neither of them move, unsure if lowering their guard is actually a good idea. Ragnvaldr is the first to yield, removing all tension from his bow but still holding it in his hand. He stands up straight and offers a small, tired smile. He is not sure himself if it is there due to genuine relief, or just a strange form of decorum in greeting a fellow survivor. Enki, however, offers no such pleasantries, the distrustful squint not leaving his eyes. Ragnvaldr’s voice is steady as he says

“Hello, D’arce. It has been a long time”

Ragnvaldr looks at Enki in hopes that he will offer his own greeting, but the Priest looks decidedly away, only saying

“Cataliss”

~~~

And there it was: The same mundane treatment from the Priest himself, as though no time had passed between them. She might as well have been standing amidst Cave Dwellers. Her lips pursed at the crude formality, but she does her best to work around the mistreatment. 

“I hope that I am not out of line by asking you two what on earth you happen to be here for - especially considering you were following after me,” she says, still eyeing Ragnvaldr’s bow warily. “I thought the two of you were in Rondon, last I saw.”

Slowly, her hands drop back down to her sides as they speak. There is no imminent sense of danger between the two parties so far - but D’arce’s shoulders stay tense for the moment. Knowing Enki, there was no telling what could ruin the man’s temper.

~~~

“That is none of your concern”

Enki’s words are sharp, more so than he intended. He doesn’t want it known that this woman’s presence riles him up so easily. It is not D’arce herself that he cares about, but the Knights armour across her body. She is the Enemy, she cannot be trusted, and he will not be taken in by those doe eyes. 

He is so convinced by his reasoning that he is taken aback when Ragnvaldr puts a hand out towards him, warning him to stop. His scowl deepens but he obeys.

“We aim for Ma’havre, seeking council with the New Gods. What has brought you back to this unholy place?”

Enki clenches a fist against his chest in indignation, confused and angry that Ragnvaldr would offer even that much freely. He stares D’arce down intently, awaiting her reply as though passing judgement on a crime.

~~~

Had D’arce already given her own reasoning, she might very well say that the Outlander had feigned the same goal in order to gain her trust - but she hadn’t even opened her mouth to say so yet. They were here for Ma’havre, just the same as she was, seeking a meeting with the Gods. 

It must be apparent how her expression slips into something of unease; She can feel the way her eyes widen and the corners of her mouth tug down as he explains their journey in brief detail. Her fingernails dig hard into her gloved palm as realization slowly dawns on her. 

They were here for Le’garde, too. They had to be.

The cycle repeated itself.

She doesn’t appear to be entirely focused as she attempts to answer the Oldegårdian, “I… I am travelling to Ma’havre myself. To speak to the New Gods.” How silly it must sound. How she must sound like such a liar, a snake, an absolute cheat. 

~~~

Ragnvaldr notices the change in her demeanor, and his brow rises in surprise as she states her intention to go to the same place. This woman was completely devoted to the Yellow King, who was already the most powerful man of the modern age- why would he send her down here if he had already achieved his goals? Something was strange about this whole situation, but Ragnvaldr had developed a level of trust for this woman through their shared suffering, and he intended to trust her now.

“If that is the case, we would have better odds travelling together”

He had barely finished his sentence before Enki delivered his rebuttal. He did so in Ragnvaldr’s native language, not wanting the Knight privy to any more of their intentions.

“Ragnvaldr, this is unwise! Is she not our enemy?! I don’t understand how you can spend years hating the Knights so vehemently then suddenly decide to share space with their top brass?!”

Ragnvaldr turned to face the smaller man, looking down at him with a mix of irritation and infinite patience as he responded in the same tongue

“Enki, calm yourself. I know you mean well, but I meant what I said- we would have a greater chance of reaching the city with another body in tow. Once we arrive, we will achieve our goal. Unless this desire has become mine alone?”

It was unfair, questioning his loyalty like that, but he needed to shake the Priest up a bit to get him out of his train of thought. He needed him to believe he felt the same way about the situation as he did, for now at least. Enki’s eyes were wide as he responded

“Of course not, I made my choice! I want to be with you, to see this through”

Enki’s hand moved ever so slightly in the Outlander’s direction, but he caught himself and turned to glare at the Knight again. He hated the idea of being stuck with her all the way to the ancient city, but he would get by knowing she was no better than a ghoul. A meat shield.

Ragnvaldr turned back towards D’arce, watching her expression intently as he switched back to their shared language and said

“Do you agree? Shall we travel to the city together?”

~~~

There had been quite a few things that had shaken up D'arce in her previous time in the dungeons: Watching men meld together as one, creating infant life and devouring it in times of immense hunger, witnessing people who no longer wore their own skin howling in pain…

And, somehow, listening to Enki and Ragnvaldr (the two most polar opposite of men) speak in the Outlander's native tongue before her was almost a rivalling system shock. 

She stares them down incredulously as Enki argues in a language she has never picked up. It's easy to recognize that it's regarding her by the icy look in his eyes and the tone of voice Ragnvaldr uses to try and simmer him down. Since when had the Dark Priest cared enough to bridge communication with anyone else? Since when had the Dark Priest cared? 

No matter. 

Her attention is drawn back as Ragnvaldr resumes in a tongue she can recognize, readdressing her after finally calming his teammate (to an extent; The way Enki watches her now still sends chills up her spine, as though he could snap her in half at any given moment). 

"I… suppose," she starts hesitantly. Her luck was bound to run out sooner or later; If she were to be in the same compromising position as she had been in the caves years ago, there would be no one to save her this time around. An ally might very well be necessary to push her through Ma'havre's gates. "If we are in agreement, then I'll join your party. I'd like to hear more of your appointment with the Gods as well."  
~~~

Ragnvaldr glances at Enki before he can open his mouth again, shutting the man up and making him look away in a huff. He turns to D’arce with a slight shake of his head

“For now I think it best that we get moving, we will have more time to discuss once we require rest”

He did not let either of them argue with him on the matter, turning to leave before yet another quarrel could break out. Enki followed quickly behind him, with D’arce just a few paces further as they left the room.

It had been a few hours since the Knight joined the two men, and they had been lucky enough to evade any unwanted attention. They stopped briefly whenever a crate or barrel was nearby so they could scavenge supplies, but otherwise they were making good progress. A heavy silence lingered over the three of them; more accurately, D’arce and Ragnvaldr had been legitimately silent while Enki had been conversing with a pill bug he found for the better part of an hour. The other two humans could not hear what he said, but could see his mouth move as he held the creature up to his face by the knuckle of his index finger. 

Ragnvaldr paid little mind to the display. He had seen Enki do this for years at this point, and had long since accepted that some things he would just never know. If he had to take a guess, however, he would say the Priest had been complaining about D’arce to the poor thing this entire time. If that is what he had to do to tolerate the situation, so be it- as long as the two of them didn’t turn on one another in battle he was fine.

Suddenly Enki looked up from his conversation with the bug, giving it a brief nod before placing it down on the floor. He turned to his party members and said

“I’m told there’s another human nearby. We must be alert”

~~~  
For once, he was here not for the money. He was not here for the show of it all, either. That didn’t mean he no longer would be dragged around like a slave to the whims of others once coin was involved but he certainly had something else in his mind when he decided to trudge through the woodlands. It took quite a bit of convincing for Celeste to even remotely relent to letting Cahara, scarred and nearly broken once from a pathway into hell, go back to the place where he held his paranoia.

A bag of food slung over his shoulder, filled with mushrooms, bread, berries and whatever he could have bought cheaply with the money D’arce had relinquished them, Cahara had set foot towards the dungeons once again, sobbing openly until the raised portcullis came through the fog. 

Here he was again, delving into this place that might claim him once and for all. But he wouldn’t let it so easily. Even as he wept openly for the trees, the man was determined to wipe it all away onto his sleeve and trudge forward with knowledge simmering in his mind and his footsteps as silent as the grave that was beginning to build its way into his chest.

You’ll come back for us, right?

Always.

He didn’t want to lie to the best woman he could have ever had in this life…

For hours, battles were avoided, pockets were picked and barrels were scavenged. He didn’t need to but a part of him immediately started to dig in the bottom of these awful barrels and boxes. His paranoia was getting the best of him already and it was wigging him out when it was only, what, three-four hours? 

Loneliness was beginning to settle into his gut by the fifth hour. He felt exhausted mentally and his body was already trying to slouch. All he could suddenly think of was Celeste and the children she had to bear, along with the harsh life of being a woman. For a moment, the last few things he wanted to experience in his life was just her sweet smile again, laughter from the children he had decided to raise and a life that was, though filled with poverty, whole. Whole for the first time in his miserable life. 

Gloved fingers wiped at his eyes again, his body threatening to collapse under pressure of the good things he had now. Once he had sniffed once and swallowed thickly, Cahara was back on route just in time to hear the softest voice, a voice that was surely not a part of the dungeons themselves in any way. The only people that had ever talked were victims and, or, Nosramus. 

The mercenary forced a smile onto his face, adjusted his bag over his shoulder and began to walk over, letting his footsteps be known until, 

“Hey guys. Miss me yet?”

~~~

This was unbearable.

The silence alone during their travels would have been peaceful for the Knight whether she had been in a party or not. She wasn’t bothered by the lack of discussion as they made their way through damp hallways and filthy corridors - rather, it was almost a blessing, knowing their history with one another. It had been entirely her fault that she hadn’t kept close ties with the men she wandered behind, and not having to explain herself for what she had chosen to do all those years ago was a lifted weight from her shoulders.

On the other hand, watching the Dark Priest inaudibly gossip with a petty insect (while shooting her disgusted glances every now and again, she might add) had begun to make her blood boil. Whatever his reasoning, Enki had held his tongue regarding her loyalty to their group, albeit at the expense of bickering with a pill bug about unspoken words he must wish he could unleash upon her. She knew it regarded her - ever since she had started to trail behind the two of them he had treated her little more than he would a resurrected corpse. And here he was now, blathering on to vermin about the venom he wished he could spit back at her.

When he finally raises his voice to speak to them, it hardly fazes D’arce. “A bug told you that much?” she scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at the suggestion. “I’m sure Nosramus is still alive and kicking - take it with a grain of salt. I’ve no time to listen to pests of the green mist that aim to scare us off.”

The footsteps that have drawn closer fall on deaf ears amidst D’arce’s criticism; It’s only when a voice resonates from behind her that she startles, twisting around with the anticipation of a fight.

Instead of reaching for her sword, her gloved hand claps over her mouth in astonishment at the sight of him - Cahara, the Mercenary - only a few meters back from their party. He came! He had decided to gamble with his life a second time in hardly a decade for her. Despite everything she had done (and hadn’t done), despite her poor choices and decisions, he still came.

The man must have nearly lost his balance at the force the Knight throws herself upon him, arms constricting him at the neck in an ecstatic embrace. “Gods, you must have an absolute death wish!” she scolds, choking out a relieved laugh. “You said your answer was no! What on earth is your business here?”

~~~

Ragnvaldr and Enki had been equally prepared to strike as they whipped around in the direction of the voice, Ragnvaldr reaching for his bow and Enki steadying his will for a spell. Once they discern that it is Cahara of all people before them, however, Ragnvaldr instantly withdraws his weapon and approaches the man. Enki stays where he is, a hard-to-read emotion across his face at the turn of events before him. Ragnvaldr clasps a hand firmly on the shorter man’s shoulder, or as much of it as he can reach around the lady knight’s tight embrace.

“My friend, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

Ragnvaldr is too focused on the relief of seeing his friend to immediately process what D’arce had said, but once he realizes it he looks at her quizzically

“What was it that he refused? Did you want him to come here?”

His gaze turns to the Mercenary, with concern clearly visible in his ice blue eyes

“Cahara, is this wise? You have another child on the way...”

~~~

Having D’arce leap onto him was one hell of a surprise. She was a beaming ray of sunshine, the opposite of Francois himself despite how they were supposedly in the same… what was it? Bloodline? Regardless, he held onto her, dropping his bag of goods as he laughed and held on, armor or not. 

“Whoa, hey! Easy there! You think I have a deathwish? Wow, wait until you meet yourselves!” After all, they were in here long before he had even considered taking a single hair of his head into the dungeon’s entryway. Once D’arce was off of his body (majority wise anyhow), he immediately spared Ragnvaldr a smile and gripped his placed hand as best as he could, trying to reassure the taller man without words at first. That, obviously, wasn’t going to fly.

“I know. That’s why I refused in the first place. But D’arce was sticking her neck in here for a reason,” and he wouldn’t specify, “so I followed. Yeah, she gave coin but she didn’t take it away from me.” Cahara let both of them go and dipped down to pick up his bag, slinging it back over his shoulder. “Either way, long story short, I’m here and I’m going to make sure we don’t lose a limb or a life.” And he didn’t miss a beat in passing a wink over towards the hostile dark priest. “You miss me too?”

~~~

Enki looked at the Mercenary cooly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he said

“Oh, most definitely. I was just dying to make this a true reunion. Now my life is complete”

Nevertheless he approached the thief, the lightest trace of a smile on his face as he gave him a small nod of welcome. Ragnvaldr was grateful for Cahara’s presence in more ways than one- hopefully he could take turns with him in keeping Enki and D’arce from each other’s throats. He smiled at his comrades, his voice full of relief as he said

“This is good, we are strongest as a team. I think it best if we found a safe spot to make camp and plan our next move. Are we in agreement?”

The other men nodded their consent. D’arce was delayed by a few seconds, seemingly distracted by something, but she too accepted the plan and the band of four began their trek through the dungeon once more.

They made their way to a small alcove, hidden away from the prying eyes that stalked and stared down the weary travellers. Ragnvaldr set to work lighting a fire, and soon a small blaze crackled with welcomed warmth that beckoned their tired bodies toward it. 

Enki was sat farthest from the fire, barely within the range of it’s glow. Ragnvaldr moved to sit next to him, but a quick glance of what could be called fear from the Dark Priest made him catch himself. He sat down a few feet away, looking into the fire so as not to arouse any suspicion.

~~~

The overwhelming feeling of happiness is quickly muddled by fear as D’arce realizes her own slip of the tongue regarding Cahara’s arrival. Her fingernails dig into the Mercenary’s vest as she leans away from the embrace, attempting to find the proper words to explain herself to her own party before he sells her out. Out of the three men, Cahara was the only one she had admitted any of her true goal to - and, with the right price (or maybe even under worse circumstances), she knew that he would happily tell the other two men.

Enki would never allow her to live it down if he knew her true goals in Ma’havre. She can hear his snark from here, already anticipating the backlash: “The Yellow King’s most loyal lady-knight, who would rather kiss his muddied boots than be forgotten in his eyes, wants to overthrow him now?” 

It’s a blessing from Alll-mer himself that he hasn’t mocked the Knight for asking for help in the first place, truly - especially after her petty bribery attempt.

Quick to fill the silence, however, Cahara continues on, keeping his story vague and avoiding the details of her visit only days prior; She hopes that he can feel the gratefulness in her gaze as she removes herself from his person, stepping back as he recalls the memory. The story is taken at face value with no further questions asked, pulling out a soft heave of breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in until the Outlander changes the subject. Her attention is drawn late to his question, but a soft nod from D’arce is enough to sate him and send him wandering down the cold corridors once more, the rest of them following suit.

The “safehouse” - if it can even be called such a thing without a door or barricade of any kind - is a welcome gift for the four after hours of travel. Ragnvaldr begins to spark a fire with the last remnants of kindling within the alcove, and D’arce drops herself down in the corner of the space, unhooking her bag from her shoulder and getting to work on unlacing her boots as the room lit up with warmth and a soft glow. 

It’s a gamble to go opening her mouth, but curiosity still bites at her as she does. “You said you would go on about your travels to Ma’havre when we settled in for the night, Ragnvaldr,” she says, eyes locked on her hands as she tugs the strings loose. “I hope you intended to carry on your story now that we’re comfortable.”

~~~

Ragnvaldr can feel Enki staring daggers into his back as he looks up at D’arce in surprise. He offers a small, mirthless chuckle

“I was hoping you would have forgotten by now”

His gaze turns back to the fire, and for a good while he doesn’t say anything. They had not even been in this accursed place twenty-four hours and he was already tired of withholding the truth. The longer he tried to hide his intentions from her the worse her reaction was likely to be, so he may as well say his piece. He does not look up from the fire, and his cadence is slow as he begins

“For half a decade now I have endured the man who took my family, my village, my life rise to prominence and parade himself as man’s gift. People follow him in the streets awaiting miracles, and his quest to ‘unify’ the lands has made great progress, but every time I hear that name my stomach twists in rage. I will no longer tolerate this farse- I have come to ask the New Gods what must be done to dethrone the Yellow King”

For all of his candor he could not bring himself to say what he truly wanted; he did not simply want him dethroned, he wanted him obliterated. Wiped from the face of the Earth as thoroughly as his home had been purged.  
Ragnvaldr grew quiet after that, and Enki tucked his legs up against his chest, peering out at the lady-knight over his knees. He felt little relief in their intentions being revealed, and part of him was hurt that Ragnvaldr did not include him in his description. Most importantly, however, he was incredibly wary of how D’arce would react to the situation. If she so much as took a step toward Ragnvaldr he would roast her where she stood, consequences be damned.

~~~

D’arce’s eyes never leave Ragnvaldr’s figure from across the fire. Her suspicions had been correct, of course: They were here to take down Le’garde, the same as she, despite not knowing their common goals. Over five years had passed and, still, the Captain is the sole reason that they have all found one another at the dungeons. 

“I see,” she hums softly, arm resting on her cocked up knee. Would it be wise to tell them that she intended to do the same? Would they believe her? Shun her? Would it truly make a difference which set of hands was the one to take down the Yellow King, so long as it was done?

“Then,” she continues, voice hoarse as she struggles to find her confidence. “I suppose we are in agreement for once.

“I’ve returned to ask the Gods just the same; False prophecy or no, I’d like to know what has deemed him to be the peacebringer of the earth.” Another tug at her boot strings, stretching the leather. “He told us that only one soul needed to be tainted in order to unify our lands - but he has used far too many bodies as stepping stones to arrive at the throne he sits on.”

…

The mercenary was propped up against the wall almost lazily as soon as they all sat down within the room, curling around the bonfire that they had made. All at once, he could feel his strength draining and a weight carried itself under his eyes. Gods. He had been in here for not even a day but he felt like he was already bleeding out slowly. 

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to when the others were saying exactly what he was already thinking. They were all there to take down the Yellow King. It was unknown as to how they would achieve that, but the man surely had to die or had to be put into stasis. That was somewhat easy, considering Ragnvaldr already loathed the man from the beginning, Enki seemed to loathe anyone that even remotely breathed and Cahara- well, he wasn’t necessarily in cahoots with anyone that dismissed the poor.

D’arce was the problem, so to speak. She had feelings still for Le’garde, a man who she had looked up to for a large part of her life. He had whipped her into shape, forced her to bleed for him and now… Well, she was likely thinking on her own terms but a part of him wondered if he could trust any one of them with his life right now. 

He just hoped that if he did stick out his neck, he wouldn’t be left alone. Surely not but… it scared him as he sat up against the wall, staring at the flickering flames. 

....

Ragnvaldr was pleasantly surprised as D’arce spoke, astounded that she not only took his words well, but that she had the same notion in mind. At least as far as to stop him, and for now that was as much as he needed. He was about ready to thank the lady-knight when he heard a low growl behind him. His shoulders stiffened in exasperation but he did not face the Dark Priest as he began his tirade.

“What a crock of shite! What makes you think you can regret it all now, after it was your sword and your will that helped put him onto that very throne?! You don’t get to decide it’s no longer working for you once you become bored of waiting for him to notice your efforts! You tired that, after all this time, all this sacrifice, he still hasn’t made you his wife, or even graced you with his presence in bed? You Are Pathetic”

He had stood up mid-rant, and now he loomed behind Ragnvaldr, the black robe melding into his shadow to become a living manifestation of the Outlander’s inner demons.

~~~

The moment Enki had opened his mouth, D'arce had fully intended on defending herself. “Intended” at least, until the Dark Priest’s words begin to cut far deeper than her armor would ever protect her from. 

Despite Ragnvaldr’s pleased expression at her confession, the news was not taken well by his companion. No - Enki had done more to undo her in one breath than he had in the weeks they were forced together all those years ago. The verbal assault comes in bursts, aiming for her dignity, her loyalty, and her heart, as Enki rises up alongside his voice. D’arce can do no more than to stare, blue eyes wide and lips parted as she tries to find space between his words for a true argument - but nothing ever leaves her aside from shallow breaths. 

Her eyes have started to mist over by the time Enki finishes his venting. It’s a cruel, pitiful weakness to show the man her tears, and he doesn’t deserve the pride of causing her misery tonight. He doesn’t deserve that pride ever, and especially not from hurting her so. It’s not a hard decision to make as she reaches a hand out to collect her bag, rising to her feet quietly and beginning to beeline towards the maw of the alcove.

“I apologize for burdening your party so,” she mutters, passing the gloved heel of her palm over her eye as she begins to depart. “I wish you three luck in Ma’havre.”

~~~

Enki watches her go with barely-restrained contempt, the tears that stain her cheeks of no concern to him. He meant every word, why should he care if she was too weak to admit the truth? It is only when he turns to look down at Ragnvaldr that he pauses; the larger man is leaning forward with his palm over his eyes. He only gets the first syllable of question out before the Outlander looks over his shoulder to- glare at him? He is so taken aback by the response that he does nothing as Ragnvaldr stands to his full height, looking down at Enki with enough ferocity to make the Priest take a step back.  
Ragnvaldr is so very tempted to yell, but he knows it will only lead to more of the same. No, he knows how best to get under the other man’s skin.

“Enki, you disappoint me”

The panicked look that spreads across the Priest’s face is hard to look at, but he has no time to dwell on it

“I will deal with you later”

Without another word he turns on his heel and walks briskly in D’arce’s direction. Enki is left so stunned and confused that all he can do is put himself into an even tighter ball than before, pulling and twisting the ends of his hair as it covers his face like a veil.

Ragnvaldr calls out after D’arce, walking faster in order to meet up with her

“Please stop, D’arce. Cahara and I want you with us, and I will keep Enki in line from now on”

~~~

Enki’s temper wasn’t necessarily a surprise but it wasn’t warranted either. It made Cahara’s face slowly turn into a frown and his fists tightened under his arms. By the time D’arce had escorted herself out, followed by Ragnvaldr, the mercenary tapped his foot twice on the ground and then approached the dark priest slowly, wearing a small smile. 

“Hey, so uh… What’s got you in such a tizzy? I know the Midnight Sun and knights are a pain but uhh, we gotta have all the help we can get. Just like last time, eh?” He couldn’t fault the dark man 100% but he also couldn’t fault D’arce 100% either. They all had made mistakes, they had all been pressured by Le’garde- so he couldn’t really get up and side with any of them while he still had his skin. Only if he was backstabbed would he run to avoid death and danger.

He was a coward after all.

…

Enki slowly lifted his head as the mercenary spoke, his eyes glazed over with a distracted haze. He wanted to lash out at him as well, to shout that no amount of coins were worth the risk of his family losing their main provider. He wanted to, but he did not have the will to let his wrath burst in the same fashion that he had rained upon the lady-knight. He had come to know Cahara and his family over the years, and he knew how much they meant to him, the lengths he would go to for them. It was that very knowledge that held his tongue back, that level of intimacy that he did not share with the Knight. His voice was small as he mumbled

“I do not trust her. Ragnvaldr is a fool for picking and choosing among his enemies, and he will come to regret it”  
With that he lowered his head back into his lap, making it clear he intended to say no more on the matter.

~~~

D’arce’s determined speed gets her as far as the staircase before Ragnvaldr’s voice falters her, though it doesn’t quite change her mind. One hand is rested on the railing of the stairs as she whips around to meet the Outlander’s eyes, her own still noticeably puffy and swimming in tears.

“No,” she says sternly, sucking in a breath to steady her voice. “No; Cahara is tolerating me because I bribed him to come back to this place. I made him feel guilty for leaving me to die in the dungeons and so he abandoned his family to tolerate me. You - I don’t know why. Gods know that I haven’t said more than two words to you since we all departed from the gates, and I’ve done nothing to be graced with your hospitality and kind words today. I helped put my captain on that throne with my own two hands, and I paid the rest of you no mind despite the suspicions you had. Enki is right to consider me a fool.

“And, if he would like to be rid of me, then I have no problem with undoing what I have done alone. I won’t stand idle and listen to him berate me over the things I have been contemplating every day since we escaped. My anger is not directed at you, Ragnvaldr, and I’m very sorry that you’ve been the one to catch my unkind words, but I will not be silent about it. Not again.”

~~~

Ragnvaldr could only listen as D’arce vented her frustrations at him, his conflicting feelings of sadness and anger rising with every word. By the time she was done his fists were clenched and his expression grim.

“Do not underestimate him, Cahara would not return to this place for someone he only tolerated. As for myself…”

He could no longer meet her gaze, shame rising in his gut as he forced out his true feelings

“I hated you. I hated the idea of you, the fact that your band so mercilessly eradicated everything I had known. If I had met you under better circumstances I would have killed you. But finding you in such a state, pulling that fiend off of you, and seeing just how vulnerable you were… I couldn’t. It would have brought me no solace, and then before I knew it we had eaten together, guarded one another as we slept, defended each other in battle. I came to see past that armour to the woman you are inside, and though I could not condone your decision to stay by Le’garde I have never since wished you harm”

He looked up at her once more, a fine mist covering his own eyes

“I don’t care that we have been apart, D’arce. I care that you three are the closest I have left to… a family…”

He wiped his arm across his eyes, shaking his head slightly as his voice stabilized.

“If you change your mind, know that you will always be welcome. I hope we may meet again, D’arce”

With that he turned and walked back in the direction of the alcove before he could embarrass himself any further.

~~~

Ragnvaldr’s words of past hatreds do not faze her the way they might have years ago. For the longest time his words don’t stick to her, instead passing her by as her gaze grew disinterested; D’arce hadn’t asked for any pleas or explanations, and watching how torn the Outlander had become in trying to justify her staying only left her feeling more and more hollow as she wiped at her eyes and allowed him to drone on.

And then he begins to recall the better times to her: The times of breaking bread together, of telling stories around the fire before bed, of risking life and limb to protect the other at their weakest. 

D’arce had left her family years ago, choosing to sacrifice everything to follow beside Le’garde. Nothing had mattered then except the Midnight Suns, and home had become wherever they settled upon in their travels. She had nothing else to go back to - not before the dungeons, not after. And so, when Ragnvaldr confesses that she is more than a teammate in his eyes (that she is family to him - she, who had so blindly torn down his previous home and relationships for her own greedy captain, was still qualified for redemption after all this time), Ragnvaldr’s words begin to resonate with her once more. 

She can’t stay mad after such a heartfelt gesture. Never with him.

As he begins to turn around, defeatedly trudging back towards their safehouse, her voice calls out to him quietly. “... Give me until morning to gather myself at the least. If Enki can hold his tongue, I wouldn’t mind accompanying you and the Mercenary,” Her gaze turns sheepish, arms crossing over her chest as she settles down. “If you’ll still have me after my... outburst.”

~~~

He is tempted not to turn around when he first hears her speak, but he relents in time to see her turn in on herself, blaming herself for the actions of another. He comes back to her, looking down at her even as she stood on the first step of the staircase. His gaze is tired, his smile small, and he says nothing as he wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace. He holds her there for a moment, before pulling back and leaving his hands on her shoulders.

“You will get an apology from Enki, this I can assure you. We will wait for you at camp as long as it remains safe. Have a pleasant evening, D’arce”

This time he is able to part from her in slightly better spirits, but the feeling does not last long as he steels himself for dealing with the Dark Priest.

When he returns to the alcove Enki is still curled up in a ball. He is too focused on him to notice what Cahara is doing, or if he is even still awake. He stops just short of the sullen man and glares down at him with his arms crossed

“Get up”

Enki looks up but does not move, his expression caught between fear and indignation

“Get up or I will drag you”

Slowly the Priest rises. Ragnvaldr points out toward the hall and Enki heads out, the barbarian right behind him. They make it only a few feet down the hall before Ragnvaldr turns on the smaller man, shoving him against a wall and stretching his arm out by his head, glowering at him 

“What is wrong with you?”

Enki’s expression becomes equally aggressive, his voice sharp as he exclaims

“Me?! You’re insane! Why do you trust a Knight, one who could never separate herself from Le’garde’s shadow?!”

“She has done so in my eyes, Enki. That should be enough for you”

“Well, it’s not! I won’t let you put yourself in such a dangerous position!”

Enki’s voice had risen with emotion, the look in his eyes becoming more nervous than angry. Ragnvaldr’s gaze narrowed, his voice lowering as he said

“Enki, what are you so afraid of?”

Enki’s eyes widened as he placed a fist against his chest in animosity

“Don’t be foolish, I’m not afraid of a woman!”

Ragnvaldr closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. He needed Enki calmer before he would get any proper answer out of him. He was not pleased with the situation, as it felt like rewarding him for bad behavior, but he would do what he had to if it meant he could pick at his partner’s brain. He removed his hand from the wall and used it to cup the Priest’s chin, forcing his head upward into a rough kiss. Enki gave a muffled complaint at first, moving his hands to try and push the Outlander away, but Ragnvaldr grabbed them easily and pinned them together. Within seconds the smaller man had ceased his struggling, and when Ragnvaldr pulled away Enki’s gaze was hazy. He slowly wrapped his arms around the smaller man, his voice soothing as he asked

“Please tell me, Enki. Why do you really hate D’arce so?”

Enki’s brain was too muddled with mixed emotions to locate anger anymore, so he reciprocated the hug and buried his face against the larger man’s neck. His voice was small and panicked as he said

“I won’t let her take you away from me!”

Ragnvaldr quirked an eyebrow, not at all expecting that answer. He patted Enki’s back, letting him work out his explanation

“She- she’s a follower of Alll-mer. She’s so self-righteous, if she ever found out about us she would be duty-bound to turn us in. I won’t get the hangman’s noose, won’t watch the same happen to you, all because of some idiotic sense of piety!”

Ragnvaldr gripped Enki tighter, resting a hand against his head. He had honestly never considered that, but the Priest was right- they had walked past more than one execution and multiple public humiliations for the ‘crime’ of sodomy. And D’arce was very religious; it was that very nature that had gotten her in trouble with the cavedwellers. Ragnvaldr’s voice was a low growl as he said

“Enki, I promise you, if she ever does anything of the sort I will kill her myself”

And he meant it. He had meant what he said to D’arce as well- neither statement was a lie. He cared for the Knight, but Enki was different. He had become too close to him, he needed him as much as the Priest did him. It would break his heart to do it, but he would kill anyone he had to in order to keep Enki by his side.

Slowly he pulled himself away, the Priest looking down at the ground as he did so.

“She will be back by morning. Can you play nice for just a little while?”

Enki nodded, not looking up. Ragnvaldr took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly before letting go, the two returning to the alcove in silence.

~~~

The way Ragnvaldr stormed back made the mercenary’s skin grow cold. There was an almost savage anger on his face and the way he spoke to Enki? It was such a shock that he felt goosebumps crawl all over his skin. There was something between them both for each other to tolerate one another like that. Ragnvaldr was also, usually, quiet and kept to himself or just growled. Enki wouldn’t put up with listening to another’s orders for shit and seeing him slowly stand up?

They were out and Cahara pressed his ear up to the door as carefully as he could. His hands didn’t dare grace the slightly ajar door for fear of it opening even slightly and making them alert to his presence. The thief pressed himself up near the hinges, listening to the conversation only a few feet away and even trying to observe through the smallest of cracks in the doorway. 

He stayed like that for a little while, hearing the muffled complaint and taking that time to snag a peek around the door before he darted back to just listen, a coy grin on his lips like a schoolboy witnessing two teachers in the school corridor. It made everything make sense all at once and he found his chest almost shuddering as he held back a small fit of giggles. He had no idea that the two were that close but it made him realize that they were afraid of D’arce and whatever power she had. 

Oh, if only they all knew how many times he himself had to tend to male or extremely dominating females. Or how many relationships formed in the back alleyways that was more than just one man and one woman. Sure it was common but it certainly was stretching that far ahead in the leagues of sex.

They were coming back. He realized that fast and he immediately pushed himself against the opposite wall, sitting down to act partially asleep. Once they reentered, his eyes opened and he gave an uncertain grin.

“Everything...okay? None o’ my business?”

...

Enki simply scoffed at the Mercenary’s question- he may not feel the need to admonish him, but he was not going to expose himself, either. He did not immediately believe that Cahara would turn them in if he found out about them, but it was better to be safe than dead. He simply lay down and faced the wall without another word to either man.

Ragnvaldr, for his part, was a bit more inviting. He sat down against the wall and looked over to Cahara with a tired smile

“It has been settled, do not trouble yourself. D’arce has said she will return in the morning, so for now it is best that we sleep. I’ll handle this shift, so rest while you can”

As things settled down again Ragnvaldr sighed softly in his native tongue. To Cahara it would have sounded like a simple exclamation, but Enki picked up on it easily

“Pleasant dreams, hjärtanskär”

Enki was grateful he was facing the wall, but he still moved his hair over his face to hide a small, reactionary grin. 

~~~

Morning came far too swiftly for D’arce’s liking. The thought of returning to the party, despite being efficient in the long run, left a sour taste in her mouth knowing that the Dark Priest would still be eyeing her for the duration of their travels. She procrastinates leaving her own bunking for the longest time, staring at the aging mortar between the cracks of each stone in the wall and lazily retying her boots as she prepares herself for the inevitable.

So long as she didn’t engage with the man, she would be fine. She had ignored his crude comments before under far worse circumstances - she could work her way around this. If Ragnvaldr kept his word, then she would have no problem with arriving at Ma’havre beside him. Hopefully.

Gentle sounds echo through the hallways as she treks back upstairs. None of them are close enough for her concern, nor sound imminently dangerous, but she cannot help but hold her breath anyways as she approaches the alcove once more. The door is barely hanging on to its hinges and pushes open easily after her gentle knocking, allowing herself into the safehouse with as little shame as she can muster. Her eyes aggressively avoid Enki’s figure the entire time, squaring her shoulders as she approaches the other two men.

“Good morning, Ragnvaldr; Cahara. I hope everything was as quiet for you up here as it was in my own refuge.”

~~~

A part of him longed to be back in his own home that he felt it in his chest. Hell, before he had even opened his eyes he thought he could smell a small yet cooked breakfast ready for the children, Celeste and he. It wouldn’t have been much but it was better than literally nothing. He, for a moment, waited to be pecked on the cheek by a smiling woman and feel his heart beat in his chest- warm and happy. 

He visibly grimaced when he saw the flat ceiling, the piss-poor lighting of candles and the other two in the room. Like a waking nightmare, Cahara was brutally reminded of where they all were as he moved to get up properly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a heavy yawn.

With a groan, he got to his feet and began to stretch, rolling his neck and cracking his back like a breaking barrel. Already he began to feel sore, particularly because he either slept wrong or because he was already imagining the agonizingly long day that they still had to go. Seeing D’arce made him grin and he waved, the other hand rubbing at his eyes.

“It was a’ight,” he replied, yawning again. He took a mental note that she didn’t address the dark priest at all. Surely he would be satisfied with that, right? “As far as I know when I took watch.”

…

Ragnvaldr opened his eyes at the sound of voices, lifting himself off the floor to stretch and yawn. Even the cold hard ground would have been better if he had been able to wrap himself around Enki in the night, but there was nothing to be done about it. He greeted the Knight with a small smile and a quick nod

“Good morning, D’arce. The night went well, but today I believe Enki has something to say to you”

He looked over at the Dark Priest with his hands on his hips, his expression daring the smaller man to make a single unorthodox move. 

Enki was awake when D’arce arrived in the room, his shift having been the most recent of the three. He observed her closely as she walked towards the rest of the group- the rigidness of her stride, the intense look in her eyes, the obstinate tone in her voice. The way she blatantly ignored him was childish; just one of her many character flaws. It wasn’t until Ragnvaldr looked over at him that he made to rise, using all of his willpower not to sigh or roll his eyes at the oncoming stupidity.

It wasn’t like it was difficult- he had humbled himself before many a noble in order to achieve his goals. It didn’t have to be sincere, it only had to stroke their ego long enough to get them off his back. He approached the Knight until he was a few feet apart from her, looking her directly in the eye.

“D’arce Cataliss, my words towards you were reprehensible, I was grossly out of line. On my status as a High Dark Priest I apologize for my transgressions and humbly request your forgiveness”

He closed his eyes as he placed a hand over his chest and nodded to the point of bowing, standing back up with a neutral expression.

Ragnvaldr crossed his arms at the display. It was sickening hollow, but it was the best D’arce was going to get, and he prayed that she obliged.

~~~

What an absolute load of shit.

D’arce’s stomach had already begun to curl as Ragnvaldr beckoned the Dark Priest over. She turns on her heel slowly to meet him, hands resting lazily atop her hip guards as she glances over his lame posture the once before meeting his gaze. 

If her morning hadn’t already been ruined by the idea of coming into contact with Enki today, surely this was the next best thing.

The moment the man bothers to open his mouth, the Knight is skeptical. Ragnvaldr had said that she would get an apology, yes - and, by the sound of it, it would have to be a very forceful demand from him - but she knew that it would be ingenuine. And ingenuine it was, down to the very syllable. The longer he speaks, the narrower D’arce’s eyes become, insulted by how informally he had bothered to present it. She had expected no better, but it still tasted sour.

But, in the hopes of not causing another scene amongst the people she truly cared about within these dungeons, she accepts the apology.

“Thank you,” she says curtly, nose tilting upwards. “If we may, I would like to continue on now.”

…

The apology was so full of shit that even Cahara could taste it and he had to bite back a grin. It was easy to see as he literally started chewing on his lips and the corners of his mouth were gradually turning upwards. He swallowed and immediately interjected, hands on his hips and his bag at his feet. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. But, uh, real quick since we’re on apologies.” He hoisted the bag on his shoulder and then approached the knight, a gloved hand extended. “I wanted to apologize, too. I know I’ve not pulled my weight enough recently, especially around you. But I want to get better for all of us.” He smiled, being partially truthful and partially just trying to smother Enki’s apology in how fake it sounded. A part of him was chanting Pleasedon’tletthemnotice because the last thing he wanted was an artery dancing out from his neck.

If she took his hand, his grip firmed up and he shook her hand like he would with someone who owed him one now. Instead, in truth, he really owed her one. Sure he was already giving his neck but she needed someone to talk to down here that she could at least rant with. And surely she knew nothing about the slums as of late. Maybe he’d tell her some stories while the other two… got busy in their neck of the woods.

Cahara’s grin was almost a little too wide before he stepped back, bouncing once on his heels. “Off we go? I’ll lead!” He held up a hand and marched out almost comically. This was his way of avoiding suspicion, after all.

~~~

As much as he wanted the two of them to get along, Ragnvaldr really wouldn’t have blamed D’arce for punching the Priest in the face at this point. It showed a high level of restraint on her part to work past her clear annoyance and he was grateful for it. What he did not expect, however, was for Cahara to interject and suddenly start making apologizes of his own, then to waltz out with the pomp of a thespian. Clearly Enki did not expect it either, for he looked at Ragnvaldr as though he were legitimately concerned Cahara had succumbed to the madness of the dungeon. The barbarian could only shrug as the two took up the rear of the party and exited the saferoom.

They had been walking for a few moments before Ragnvaldr slowed his pace, deliberately falling behind by a few paces. Enki quickly did the same, and Ragnvaldr glanced down the man sternly before speaking in an agitated whisper. He spoke in his native tongue for an added layer of security.

“Was that honestly the best you could do?”

Enki narrowed his eyes in exasperation before replying in the same whispered tongue

“The best she’s going to get from me”

“Enki-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m ‘playing nice’, as you called it, because I don’t need any more aggravation from either of you, not because I said anything untruthful”

“Sometimes the truth isn’t what people need to hear”

“I don’t know what delusion you’ve convinced yourself is worth living in, but I will not be satisfied with this situation until our journey is done”

Ragnvaldr just sighed, getting nowhere fast. He made sure D’arce and Cahara were looking ahead before he reached a hand towards the Priest’s shoulder, but Enki glared at him before looking decidedly away. Ragnvaldr put down his hand, fighting the urge to place it around the smaller man’s neck.

~~~

D'arce chuckled, giving Cahara's hand a firm shake before trailing behind him in his dramatic descent back into the dungeons. "Despite you being the least enthused about coming back out of the four of us, you've got far more energy," she teased, adjusting her back and letting it drop off of her right shoulder. 

Enki and Ragnvaldr slow their pace shortly after leaving the safehouse - and it doesn't go unnoticed by the knight. She takes a few brief glances over her shoulder in an attempt to gauge the severity of their discussion, to no avail. Their whispers are muffled and unintelligible, just as it had been the last time they spoke in front of her. With a small huff, D'arce picks up her pace to walk alongside the mercenary, trying to fill the discomforting silence she was placed in. 

"Those two have been awfully secretive, haven't they?" she hums, taking one more peek over her shoulder to show Cahara who her comments were directed towards. "Did you know that the priest can speak the same language as Ragnvaldr now? Whyever he would need to, I can't imagine - but it's awfully rude to go telling secrets in front of other people that way, in my opinion…"

…

He turned over his shoulder, giving her a single fingergun while the other hand kept the bag on his shoulder. “

“Gotta be positive in this kind’a place, dollface. Can’t get all sour like Enki.” He made a face, as though to mock the priest that had seen literal death in the eye and then turned back around to continue to romp through the dungeons. Despite his perky attitude, the man was looking left, right and listening well above the shuffling sounds of footsteps and D’arce’s armor. 

Cahara purposefully scouted ahead when he could, listening for prison guards, cavegnomes and other monstrosities that he could backstab if he had the chance. He only somewhat stopped focusing once the knight came up to him.

He didn’t need to turn around to know who she was suggesting. He almost started grinning. “Well, even if they are, can’t really fault them. They’ve been sharing each other’s company off and on while we’ve been busy doing our own things. Ragnvaldr, as far as I know, just tends to hunt and roam. Enki just...roams and studies.” He shrugged. “Different people, same place. Enki’s a scholar after all, so he probably wanted to learn a near-dead language anyway.”

....

"'Sharing each other's company'? I've no idea how Ragnvaldr can stand that snake for more than a few minutes at a time, let alone break bread with him outside of the dungeons. He does that voluntarily?" she asks, rolling her eyes. "It must sound brash of me, but I just can't fathom that."

The mines still hollowly echo their footsteps as they maneuver over rails and rocks at the entryway. Spectres still drift from alley to alley, never having been laid to rest like the rest of these foul monsters. It's easy enough to distract and avoid them - between the four of them, they have enough experience to swiftly move through the area and advance forward towards their only key to enter Ma'havre. 

D'arce takes a moment to scout ahead as they enter the realm of the primitive Cavedwellers. While no more mages are blocking their way, the Cavedwellers themselves still reside comfortably within the caverns, seemingly oblivious to her presence before them. "We have company," she calls back, tightening the straps of her shield as she waits for the boys to catch up.

~~~

Ragnvaldr falls into place beside her, just beneath the platform where the Pocket Cat could sometimes be found. Once Enki descends the ladder he does not stop, however, and instead walks ahead without consulting the group. He gets a few feet ahead before Ragnvaldr catches his wrist

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Enki wheels around to face him, his expression venomous

“I will obtain the Cube for the party, there’s no reason we should all go”

“You’ll be swarmed the instant you take it”

“That’s the plan”

“Wha-?”

Then it clicked for him

“Are you honestly-”

Despite his voice being at a whisper he still switched to his native tongue

“You would rather take your anger out on these miserable creatures than walk another step with D’arce?”

Enki did not answer, but whipped his short sword out of its sheath and held the tip to Ragnvaldr’s throat. Unphased by the display, the barbarian locked eyes with the Dark Priest in a silent battle of wills for what felt like an eternity. Eventually Ragnvaldr released his grip and Enki slowly sheathed his sword once more. Ragnvaldr watched with gritted teeth as the Priest walked ahead, climbing up the ladder towards the Cube’s pedestal. Ragnvaldr drew his bow and called over his shoulder to his teammates

“Prepare yourselves, we are about to be in a very bad way”

He had barely gotten the words out when a terrible howling erupted from the cavedwellers, and the sounds of rushing feet could be heard all around them. The gaunt creatures paid no mind to the three, however, and rushed past them in a clamoured attempt to reach the Priest. Ragnvaldr moved forward just in time to see two cavedwellers be launched off the far platform by a blast of fire, and could hear still more fall to the ground above him. He rushed up the ladder to see Enki nearly surrounded by the creatures as he slashed, ignited, and summoned against them with a furious look in his eyes.

Enki was so caught up in his rampage that he did not notice one of them approaching him from behind. Ragnvaldr hurried to his feet and drew his bow, letting an arrow fly just a second too late- Enki was stabbed in the side by a poison-tipped spearhead before the offending cavedweller was shot between the eyes. Enki screamed in pain and fell on one knee, and Ragnvaldr could not control the fear in his voice as he shouted his lover’s name

“Enki!!”

~~~

Cahara could’ve ripped out his hair from his own scalp out of what in the fuck the dark priest was doing. Was it suicide? Or maybe he was too elegant for that shit. But regardless, the man looked ready to drop the bag with his jaw and claw at his own scalp. A part of him even wanted to laugh at the audacity that the dark priest charged forward through cavers of the cavedwellers as though he could defend himself from the ones that had made new refuge.

“Oh, fucking Alll-mer,” he muttered, before sprinting off forward. The bag was dropped, his blade was brandished and he was upon the rest of the squabbling cavedwellers, landing backstabs and parrying as much as he could to try and rescue the really stupid priest. 

He stabbed one in the side of the face, having launched himself onto its back and looping his legs around its waist. “Enki!” he yelled, taking his stabs in time with his speech. “What! The! FUCK!?” the cavedweller dropped dead and he turned, “Were you thinking!?”

…

Oh, Alll-mer.

D’arce had hardly looked up from adjusting her Eagle Crest shield before the dark priest had pushed past them, already storming through the dusty village in anticipation of collecting the cube alone. 

“Has he got a death wish?” she hissed to Ragnvaldr, unsheathing her sword as she watched the man disappear into the darkness of the caves. “Certainly there are easier ways to go about this--”

There’s hardly time for her to continue her critiquing before the swarm begins. She hears the collecting of weapons and sharp stones in all directions, reverberating wheezes of breath bouncing off of every crevice in the system before making it back to the remaining three party members left behind in Enki’s rage. At the sound of Enki’s sudden (albeit anticipated) distress, Cahara is the first to put his life on the line to defend him; The knight is quick to follow suit, slashing cavedwellers with adrenaline she nearly forgot she had in an attempt to lessen the crowd that was quickly surrounding the injured priest. 

“Have you gone mad?” she yells from over her shoulder. Her back now facing Enki, she lifts her shield in a weak attempt to block any critical hits from getting to him. The natives still writhe and scratch at anything uncovered, trying to bypass the mercenary and knight as they clamor for their treasured cube. “You’re going to bleed out over a mission that would have been foolproof had you bothered to cooperate!”

A guard takes her distraction as weakness, slicing at the fraction of exposed skin along her neck with his spearhead. It elicits no more than a surprised yelp out of her, straightening her back as she refocuses on the situation at hand. She could chew Enki out later - if he lived long enough to hear her bickering. “Cahara, get him out of here!”

~~~

The poison is abnormally fast-acting, and for a brief moment Enki wonders if it’s because this was his second exposure to it. He had barely spared Ragnvaldr a passing glance at that point in their lives, but the man had still gone out of his way to carry him to safety after the dart had incapacitated him. His pondering is cut short as both Cahara and D’arce scold him, driving him to an even deeper fury

“Shut your festering gobs! We have the Cube, that’s all that matters now!”

He tries to stand and finds that he… can’t. His legs won’t cooperate, and it’s becoming harder and harder to focus. He attempted to use loving whispers on himself but found that he did not have the wherewithal to activate it. Shit, he had drained himself in his fight against the savages. He growls to himself before his vision blurs and he collapses onto the cave ground.

Ragnvaldr, for his part, had killed six of the creatures in a frenzied attempt to keep Enki safe. He was too distracted with more of the lot to stop D’arce from receiving the same vicious poison, and now he was on his last nerves. As the lady-knight ordered Cahara to get Enki away he growled fiercely at the smaller man

“Don’t you touch him!”

He bent down and wrapped the Priest across his shoulders as though he were a prize boar and burst past the remaining hoard, shouting for his teammates to follow

“There’s too many, we have to run!”

He had never run so quickly in his life, and he doubted he would ever be able to do so again.

They ran for what felt like hours until the sounds of the cavedwellers were but a distant echo behind them. They came across a small storage room with a sturdy door and made their way inside- luckily it was free of any other residents. Ragnvaldr carefully lay Enki down on the ground, watching the cold sweat across his face nervously. He unclasped the fur that adorned his shoulders and gave it to the Priest as a makeshift pillow. He reluctantly turned away from him, moving to start a fire in the middle of the room. He did not look up at the lady-knight as he asked her

“D’arce, how are you feeling?”

~~~

Everything past that moment was a blur to the knight; D’arce can remember the shouting, the scrambling past dozens of pale-skinned dwellers, nearly tripping over the stones and loose planks that lined the mine’s floors, feeling her lungs and throat stinging as she gasped for air amidst their forever-going sprint out of the cave system. She can remember the going, but no fine details that could have led her to the decrepit storage room that they now took respite in. 

The first thing she does is collapse to sit on a nearby crate, curling over and resting her hands along the back of her neck as she attempted to catch her breath. Occasional glances are sent towards the dark priest that laid motionless on the other side of the fire - her expression is caught somewhere between frustration and worry at the sight of his condition. The injury had been his fault alone. Under regular circumstances, D’arce might have suggested delaying treatment - but Enki was much older than their first traipse through these dungeons, and he had always been so frail compared to the rest of them. A blow like this could likely kill him. 

“I’m fine,” she mutters, still swallowing the dryness out of her throat. “It was only a scratch. Nothing that can’t be delayed.” Ragnvaldr’s priority right now, as it should have been, was Enki’s worsening condition. Despite the poison-tipped blade, the nick D’arce had received had been shallow enough to ignore. There were no steady signs of poisoning within her (presumably, from what the woman can feel beneath her exhaustion), and so she chooses to ignore the fact, eyes now falling on the outlander as he busies himself. “Have we anything to counter it? The poisoning?”

~~~

Ragnvaldr did not immediately answer, looking quickly through his and Enki’s packs before shaking his head

“Nothing- of course”

This was especially frustrating, as it was so unlike Enki to do something so brash, but to do it without any form of backup was near inconceivable. He grumbled quietly to himself as he pushed two crates together, forming a makeshift bed, and carefully moved Enki on top of them. He attempted to lift the smaller man’s robe to check his wound, but Enki groaned and weakly batted at his hands. Ragnvaldr caught them easily, his voice stern but expression soft as he said

“Enki, let me see”

Enki’s eyes opened slightly to look down with him at the wound- at least the tip had not broken off inside of him, and it did not seem to have punctured anything too vital. Ragnvaldr was grateful Enki had at least a little more meat on his bones this time, for if he had been the skeletal version of himself that had originally entered the dungeons he would be in much worse straights. They had no bandages, either, so Ragnvaldr ripped apart one of Enki’s handkerchiefs to cover the wound. It was better than nothing.

He had just finished when Enki suddenly jolted upright, leaning over the crates and vomiting onto the floor. It was unpleasant certainly, but Ragnvaldr moved only slightly away as Enki leaned back against the crates. The Priest had a far-off look in his eyes as he began to speak

“Y’know, when you went to fight Le’garde and we had to knock you out, I voted for you to stay”

Ragnvaldr only raised an eyebrow at his comment

“Because you saved me, you fool. I told you not to and you did it anyway. I thought ‘a man that stubborn would never accept being killed in such an undignified manner, and I’m not about to be haunted by his ghost’”

He chuckled meekly to himself, and Ragnvaldr placed the back of his hand against his forehead; he was burning up. Ragnvaldr looked over to D’arce and said

“If you truly feel fine at the moment, would you watch over him while Cahara and I go scouting for supplies? He’s only going to get worse if we don’t find something soon”

~~~

He was already talking absolute nonsense. D’arce can barely refrain from rolling her eyes as Enki mumbles on about age-old encounters amidst his delirium. She busies herself with unhooking her arm guards as they speak amongst themselves, trying her hardest not to be bothered by the gentle nausea settling in her stomach. 

Despite what Ragnvaldr had told her in the halls the other night, she wasn’t feeling like family in this group. It was hardly anything to do with Enki’s constant bickering with her, but rather the undeniable truth that she had been so absent from them - and it showed: Ragnvaldr had a more meaningful connection with the Dark Priest than anyone else, and it almost stirs up a sense of jealousy within her. Cahara was still familiar with both of the men, she knew - they both spoke very confidently about the growing family Cahara had back home as though they visited frequently or shared company when they could - but she had been left out of their growth in her desire to stay close to Le’garde. 

It felt silly now; Abandoning the three heroes who had saved her life countless times in the dungeons just to lay her forehead at the boots of a man who had cheated and lied his way to godhood. The path through Ma’havre had taught her nothing except what a shameful follower she was, and even then she did nothing to change it. It was better late than never, she supposed.

“I can keep an eye on him,” she assured, rolling her wrists as they were freed from the armored constraints. Her gaze met his again as he looks over, and she attempts to calm his nerves with confidence. “Do what you have to. I can handle it.”

~~~

Ragnvaldr gives a relieved smile, nodding his thanks before beckoning Cahara to follow him with a wave of his hand, too tired for anything more. As he stands and passes by the ailing Priest Cahara’s eyes linger on his form; he can’t help but see himself in his position, with Celeste watching desperately over him instead of the Outlander. How easily he could be the one on those crates, or just as easily have an appendage removed or his head sliced off. He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of those terrible thoughts, before picking up speed to follow after Ragnvaldr.

They had been searching for at least half an hour and had found nothing. Cahara was growing steadily more hopeless with every empty crate, and his smile faltered a little more every time he met Ragnvaldr’s eyes. As they broke down a door only to find a single chest with a useless book inside, Cahara’s resolve waned. He let out a brief ‘hey’ to alert the barbarian, then instantly regretted it; he couldn’t endure those ice blue eyes that silently begged him for even the tiniest bit of hope. He looked down at the ground, at his dagger, anywhere else as he began to speak

“Look, big guy… I can’t do this. I’m so, so sorry, but I can’t stay here any longer. Not, like, this room, but here.”

Ragnvaldr stopped his double-check of the chest to stand up and face Cahara properly. His heart was already beginning to ache but he would not stop the Mercenary from saying his piece.

“I know you and Enki are very close, and you both mean a lot to me, you do, but there’s nothing more I can do here. I’m just gonna be one more mouth to feed, one more person to use a vial on. Like you said, it wasn’t smart o’ me to come here at all when I got family to look after. So, I think it’s best that I-”

Ragnvaldr could bear it no longer. He walked up to the smaller man quickly and Cahara looked up in apprehension, the grip around his dagger tightening reflexively. He flinched as the larger man’s arms came towards him, expecting a punch or even for them to go around his neck, but he did not expect the tight embrace that enveloped him in. He stood there in shock a moment as Ragnvaldr said nothing, only held him, but before he knew it he was sniffling and his dagger had fallen to the floor as he returned the embrace. Ragnvaldr pulled away slowly, leaving his hands on Cahara’s shoulders as he said

“My friend, we would not have gotten this far without you. D’arce and I may not have been able to get Enki away from that hoard if you had not risked your life for him. You have already done more than I can repay, I can ask for no more of you. Go home to your family, they are waiting for you”

As Ragnvaldr removed his hands Cahara wiped at his eyes with his palms before giving his friend a big, genuine smile

“Thanks, thanks a lot, man! Look, you better make it outta here alive! There’ll be a big meal for all three of you waiting at my place when you do, and y’know Celeste will be pissed if she has to cook that much for nothing!”

Ragnvaldr gave him a hearty chuckle at that, and Cahara bent down to pick up his dagger. He was grateful he had taken all of his stuff with him when they left the saferoom, for now he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself to D’arce and Enki too. He maneuvered his way around the larger man and left the room without looking back, for he knew if he did he would never make it out of this place.

Ragnvaldr watched him go, lingering in the room a few minutes more to make sure he was gone. Suddenly his sad expression deformed to one of intense anger, and he kicked the chest against the wall so hard the wood cracked. He did not care if it had a white vial on it or not, the next thing he saw was going to die. As he left the storage room he heard the grotesque groaning of a prison guard approaching, and he snarled fiercely as he drew out his hunting knife and went to face it.

-

Enki had not said much during his time alone with the Knight, too preoccupied with vomiting and daydreaming to do so. The words he decided to speak came forth suddenly, slurred through delirium and pain

“What has Alll-mer ever done for you?” 

~~~

Some say that silence is deafening. In the situation of the safehouse, however, after nearly an hour of isolation with a poisoned Enki, D’arce would have killed for some goddamn silence.

The Dark Priest had been vomiting off and on for the past thirty minutes or so. She had been able to ignore it the first time, tossing out a cursory “Excuse you” as he collected himself and laid down once more, but the longer they wait for the Outlander the thinner her patience becomes. The sound alone is enough to make her gag - combined with the preexisting illness that was still finding its roots within her immune system, she was nearly at her limit.

The man finally finds a moment to address her in between his fits; Per the norm, it’s never anything she is eager to answer, and she already finds her face puckering as her God is brought into question. 

“He guided me through my knighting,” she said simply, keeping her reasoning brief and formal to avoid too much scrutiny. “He was prominent in my upbringing and gave me strength to keep working hard despite the criticism I may face for being a woman in the field. Why? What does it matter to you?”

~~~

Enki’s gaze is distant, but nevertheless he manages to stare down the lady-knight as she proclaims the glory of her Lord. He can feel his hackles raise as she continues, and despite his bile-seared throat he growls out his rebuttal

“Oh, he guided you, did he? Taught you right from wrong and all that? Taught you to pray, to grovel, to do things his way and only his way in order to be worthy of his grace?”

His voice had not risen in volume, but it was clear that every word was making him more and more agitated. A sudden, small movement could be seen by the crates he lay on- it was a pill bug. And another, and another. And spiders and ants and cockroaches. They were coming out of the walls, out from under crevices, drawn in by his agitation and swarming around the crates in a skittering mass. He didn’t even seem to notice them as he continued

“What makes his love so special? Why would anyone ever follow a god that says the only worthy way of expressing love is through a man and a woman’s creation of a child? Why can’t I love him the way I want? Why would you take him from me?!”

He lifted himself unsteadily onto his shoulders, his hair clinging to his sweat-drenched forehead as his eyes bore into her very being. The bugs below him all faced her now, showing their agitation with postures and hissing noises.

“He is the best thing to ever come into my life and you would take him away in some sickening display of ‘piety’?! I love him, I won’t let you take him from me!”

He had given no motion, no silent order, yet the bugs were advancing on D’arce in unison. A black wave of swarming bodies approached from the ground while flies and moths flew around her face.

“I’ll kill you before I let that happen! You mean nothing to him, nothing! He would forget you as easily as you forgot us, you lovesick skank!”

The bugs were nearly upon her when the Dark Priest’s eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and he slumped forward, hanging partially over the crate, his hair just missing the puddle of vomit below him. Just as quickly as they assembled the bugs dispersed, all except for one white moth that flew over to its Master. It fluttered above him briefly before flying out of the room, squeezing through a crack in the stone close to the door.

Enki did not move at all after that.

~~~

D’arce’s mouth had opened in an attempt to defend herself very quickly, but the momentum is lost as Enki begins to spit insult after insult regarding her beloved deity. The jabs wound her at every turn, despite his weakened voice, and she can't stop her brow from furrowing and cheeks growing hot in her rage. 

The anger quickly turns to confusion at the sight of a small beetle drifting into her line of sight; Then another. Then another still. Insect after insect, slowly appearing from out of the woodwork and accumulating closely by Enki's makeshift cot as his voice rises in intensity and his gaze turns fiery towards her. 

What are you talking about, she wants to say, but there is no space between his words for her to fit the question anymore. The once-welcomed silence of the room has been filled up by Enki's anger and the sound of thousands of little legs and wings swarming along the floor. At the raise in his voice the bugs draw closer to her, some approaching the crate and beginning the slow crawl up to her seat, some whizzing past her ears and bumping her jaw as they jet by. Her legs have quickly drawn up into her chest to avoid the oncoming army along the ground, crossed at the ankles as she holds them tightly to preserve her personal space. 

"Enki-- Enki you're scaring me!" she yells back. Amidst the noise and the fear, the only thing that D'arce can properly understand is the insinuation that the Dark Priest wanted to see her dead. He might be acting upon such a desire now, she thinks, the more that he leans over his bed and the insects finally begin to close in on her, brushing past her boots and tapping against the wood--

And then he slumps. The bugs dissipate quickly and the sound of the silence is just as overwhelming as all rumors said it to be. D'arce doesn't move for the longest time - she can still hear the shallow breathing of Enki from across the fire and decides that it's no emergency she has to tend to immediately. When her heart calms itself and the jitters finally cease, she rose from her seat and guided Enki's upper-half back to its resting position, letting out a shaky breath.

~~~

Ragnvaldr had slain the prison guard mercilessly, beating its corpse afterward to let out further frustration. He stood above the body, panting heavily as he looked down at the blood splattered across his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, trying to regain some semblance of composure. How could everything have gone so wrong? He knew he could not keep Cahara here against his will, but he already missed his companionship, and did not look forward to explaining his absence to the other two. And Enki- he should have done more to stop him. If he had just moved that sword away and dragged him back, they would not be in this mess right now. D’arce, she said she was okay, but how long until tragedy befell her as well? He just needed a sign that their luck would improve.

As though on command, a white moth came fluttering down the center of the hall and approached him directly. He looked at it curiously before realizing that it must be acting on Enki’s behalf. It fluttered around him silently for a moment before moving past him, staying in the center of the hall so it would be easy to spot. He followed the creature down twists and turns, up a flight of stairs, and finally to the corpse of a fallen explorer. The body was tucked behind a wall of crates, as the person’s last-ditch effort to die in peace; they would have been nearly impossible to find without help. He bent down to the body, rummaged through their belongings, and came across the white vial they needed. The person also had some coins and a small bit of food on them, but none of it would have done them any good as it appeared they had succumbed to infection. He mumbled a brief prayer of thanks before gathering up anything of any use into his pack and beginning back towards the saferoom, the white moth flying away to its business.

He could feel a tenseness in the air before the door of the saferoom was even fully open. He stepped inside to see Enki in a deep sleep, with a few insects loitering around the crates he lay atop. D’arce was beside him, her expression grim and skin paler than usual. She looked as though she had seen a ghost.

Ragnvaldr frowned deeply, not saying anything at first as he walked over to the Priest with vial in hand, lifting up his head and letting the white liquid dribble down his throat. Enki groaned as Ragnvaldr lowered his head back down, the smaller man turning to face the wall and curling into a fetal position. Ragnvaldr lowered the empty vial to the floor then finally looked D’arce’s way, his arms crossed tightly against his chest as he said

“What did he do?”

~~~

D'arce had stayed seated next to Enki for what felt like hours after the incident. Her mind wanders as she stares deeply into the fire, trying to piece together everything that the priest had said to her in his fury. Who was he willing to kill her for? Was it truly a man, or was he simply caught up in his delirium? And what did her loyalty to Alll-mer have to do with his rage?

The creaking of the door is the only thing that draws D'arce out of her trance, finally focusing her eyes as Ragnvaldr returns to the safehouse.

The first thing that becomes immediately apparent is that there is one less body that passes over the threshold - Cahara does not follow behind the Outlander, and immediately it brings a sinking feeling to her stomach. Ragnvaldr doesn't seem the least bit bothered by this fact, though, simply tending to Enki to reverse the ill-doings of the poison before addressing her once more. 

She isn't prepared to let that matter go so easily, however. 

She rises to her feet as he speaks, fidgeting with her gloves as he draws the topic to Enki - always Enki, no matter who else stands between them. "Where is Cahara?" she blurts out, a panic already settling in her gaze. "I made a promise to myself that he would get to see his family again, Ragnvaldr - what happened to Cahara?”

~~~

Ragnvaldr’s eyes widen at her concern- it was foolish of him to think he could simply waltz in without explaining the Mercenary’s absence. His expression softens as he says

“I apologize, I did not intend to frighten you. He is alright, he will be seeing his family soon. He-”

He has to look away as he sighs heavily, the lady-knight’s gaze too intense for him to linger on.

“He wishes us luck, but it will be only us from here on out”

The words hurt to say, and he puts his hand against his forehead in exhaustion. He turns to the fire and quickly sits down, crossing his legs and leaning towards the flames. He removes his pack from his shoulders and takes out bread that had belonged to the fallen survivor, biting into it scornfully. He holds up his pack to D’arce without looking at her, mumbling through the bread

“Take what you need”

~~~

"He... he left?"

While the initial panic subsides in her, it leaves behind a hollowness at the thought that Cahara would no longer be joining them in their endeavors. She should have expected it, honestly - the fact that the Mercenary had even made it this far was astounding, especially after dropping everything back in Rondon just to join her. A part of her is ecstatic that he'll get to go home and tend to Celeste before her labor, but his absence is still a heavy blow on the group. 

She takes a seat an arm's length away from Ragnvaldr, gingerly taking his pack and digging through it for anything to busy herself with. Food is almost attractive, but the nausea that still sits in her stomach changes her mind very quickly and has her setting the bag down between them, settling on enjoying the warmth of the fire instead.

"... There were hundreds of bugs," she starts, never meeting Ragnvaldr's eyes as she recalls the event. "He questioned my loyalty to Alll-mer and then went on this... this awful rant; He talked about me taking something from him, or someone, and how he would kill me before I could do... something. I don't know what. I thought he might very well seize, he was so angry with me. I didn't do a thing to instigate it, either. The bugs continued to swarm and I was positive he would drown me in them had he not passed out."

~~~

Ragnvaldr finishes the bread as D’arce begins recounting her ordeal with the Dark Priest, and his eyebrow lifts in barely-contained concern. Enki had come dangerously close to outing both of them, and now Ragnvaldr did not know what to say. He could, and likely should, just shrug it off as sickness altering his mind. There was a part of him, however, that was so tired of all their secrecy, of all of Enki’s behavior, that he wanted to just let D’arce know. After all, there was no guarantee that she would react negatively- she may not approve, but he did not believe she would turn them over to the authorities after everything they had been through together. He went to open his mouth but Enki shifting slightly above him stopped him and he closed it again. He paused for a moment before focusing on a different facet of the conversation.

“He did that to me, once. You’re lucky he stopped- it’s terrifying. The bugs were crawling down my throat and I couldn’t breathe”

He reflexively brushed his hand against his throat, then continued

“I’m sorry he did that to you, D’arce. I’m sorry he’s been like this. He’s… afraid; it’s clouding his judgement and making him downright foolish”

He clenched his fists as he steeled himself for what he was about to say, turning to face her with an intense expression

“There’s something you should know about Enki and myself, something you won’t want to hear. Do you promise to hear me out and not overreact?”

~~~

"You're sinners, aren't you?"

The statement leaves her mouth before she can even catch it, piecing together the last bits of information needed to decode the threats Enki had spewed earlier in the evening. When Ragnvaldr doesn't immediately deny it, her eyes leave the fire to watch him scornfully. "That was the man he spoke of, the one he wanted to 'protect' and whom he said I meant nothing to - it's you. You're both sinners."

It wasn't a difficult suggestion to believe. All the signs had pointed this way since the very beginning: The travelling together, the shared language, the panic Ragnvaldr had been sent into at the sight of Enki getting injured. They had become so close because they were close. Not a lick of it makes sense to the Knight (why they would participate in such an awful act, or how Ragnvaldr could stand the priest) but the emotion twists in her gut the longer she waits for the man's explanation.

"Go on then," she continues, frowning. "Tell me that I'm wrong."

~~~

Sinners. She had to say ‘sinners’. Ragnvaldr regrets his decision to tell her after her first sentence, and the feeling only worsens as she comes to her own conclusions about his and Enki’s relationship. He is too distracted in his attempt to find the right words to notice that Enki has sat up, and he jumps when he hears the Priest’s scornful voice from above him

“You are wrong. The Oldegårdian is only my bodyguard”

Ragnvaldr looks up at him, stunned

“Enki, what are you saying?”

“Shut up!”

The Priest shouts as he points in the Outlander’s direction

“My lover does not make excuses for me as though apologizing for an insolent child! My lover would not go blabbing our business to someone that would easily use it against us, and my lover would never be so foolish as to delude himself into thinking he could ever ‘play nice’ with a Knight of the Midnight Sun!”

Enki clambors off the makeshift bed and Ragnvaldr rises to meet him, but the Priest has turned his anger towards the lady-knight once more, his accusatory finger now pointed at her

“And you-! You have been nothing but a thorn in my side from the instant you stepped out from that bookcase! I don’t know which is more intolerable, the noble blood in your veins or Alll-mer’s teachings running through your thick skull, but together they make a naiive waif of a woman that thinks she knows all but has experienced nothing!”

~~~

The outburst startles her to attention as well as the Outlander, quickly rising to her feet to meet the unforgiving gaze of a newly-rejuvenated Enki. Though a majority of his venomous words are not aimed at her, he leaves a very gracious portion of his anger for her and her alone to deal with.

"Me?? What about yourself? What about throwing yourself into danger and risking the lives of your teammates just so you could be the one who collects the cube? What about nearly cutting ties with a party member because of things they believed in over five years ago? What about, Gods don't let me forget, the fact that Cahara left because of your selfishness?"

D'arce gestures to the empty space around the doorway with a harsh wave of her hand, eyebrows raising as she waits for Enki to take notice. "We are down a body because you couldn't be an adult and speak to the rest of us about your troubles! Instead you'd rather make us enemies and call yourself a victim and abandon us!"

~~~

The Dark Priest doesn’t even turn his head, seemingly unphased by the Mercenary’s absence

“I didn’t ask him to come here in the first place! I don’t know what you said to him, but we knew better than to even ask something like that of him! I didn’t want him here, I certainly don’t want you here- I never asked to be associated with any of you!”

Ragnvaldr’s face is stoic but the pain that shoots across his eyes is palpable. He doesn’t even get to open his mouth all the way before Enki cuts him off

“I don’t want to hear it, you cozener! You don’t get to trick me into caring about you then brush me aside to impress a woman that’d turn on you the instant she knew what you really were! I’ve had enough of both of you!”

He turns swiftly to storm out the door but Ragnvaldr grabs his upper arm, causing the Priest to wheel around and slap him hard across the face. Ragnvaldr is left stunned; not by the impact itself, but in just how familiar this whole exchange feels. Up until this point, that fight in the woods all those years ago had remained their worst, but he can feel that this one is different. Talking will do him no good now, so he releases his grasp and says no more as Enki hurries out of the store room, slamming the door behind him.

Ragnvaldr stands completely still for a few heartbeats, his rage building until his entire body is shaking and he can hold it in no longer. He turns around and punches one of the crates Enki had been sleeping on, his hand shoving through it violently. He yanks it back out of the hole and walks a few paces away before leaning against the wall, letting himself slide down it and placing his hand over his forehead as he connects with the floor. His voice is a gravelly whisper as he says

“That miserable, exhausting man…”

~~~

The slap reverberates throughout the room louder than any words spoken amidst Enki's anger; D'arce can't help herself as a hand flies to cover her mouth in surprise, eyes wide at the exchange as the man forcefully takes his leave.

There is a heavy silence that follows Enki's departure, weighing down on the two remaining party members. Her eyes are glued to Ragnvaldr's quaking figure (already anticipating another breakdown) as she attempts to speak to him, hoping that kind words will undo the rage he has been stricken with - but she hardly croaks out his name before the man sends a fist through one of the rotting crates along the wall, sending her startling immediately.

D'arce does not seat herself again once the Outlander calms himself. There is a very evident feeling in her chest that she should not have opened her mouth - she shouldn't have gotten herself found by the duo, she shouldn't have told them why she was leaving for Ma'havre, and she shouldn't have spoken her opinion about the two of them only moments ago. It had done more harm than good to travel together, and now another body was gone - whether it was temporary or not, she had no idea, but Enki's leaving had left them in shambles.

Her voice is the furthest from confident as she finally finds the willpower to speak up. 

"I don't know if your feelings are still the same as they had been when you confided in me on the stairs the other night," she starts, arms crossed loosely across her breastplate. "And I understand if you've changed your mind on them, but... if my travelling with you has caused Enki this sort of discomfort, I don't think it wise to anger him any further.

"I don't want to leave you at a disadvantage, Ragnvaldr, and you know that, but this sort of behavior has fractured us. Cahara feared for his life and left; Enki has become irrational because of my presence and stormed off; And I fear that me continuing to travel with the two of you, if he returns, will do you two no favors."

~~~

Ragnvaldr looks up at her from his spot on the floor, his expression distant. Only once she finishes her speech does a spark of intensity flicker across his vision. He gives a scornful chuckle before saying

“I would have expected more resolve from a veteran Knight”

He offers her a small, tired smile before continuing

“This isn’t the first time Enki’s stormed out on me, and it won’t be the last. Believe me, if he was truly fed up with us we would have been set ablaze. Or worse. 

“I meant it when I said he was afraid. He… he’s never had anyone he was this close to before, so he’s become very possessive of me. I hope you can understand his worry, after the reaction you gave when you found out. But he has let his concerns get the best of him, and I know he doesn’t like acting this way either. He just wants to know that you won’t take me from him, then I’m certain he will finally return to his more logical self”

His expression hardens and his voice becomes more stern

“And D’arce… understand that I will not be separated from him, either. Loving that man is no easy task, but he is the most important person in my life now. I want you to stay with us, I do, but if you find more comfort in your faith than my companionship you will make an enemy out of me”

He rises to his feet, looking down at the lady-knight and offering his hand to her

“Shall we continue to the ancient city together?”

~~~

D'arce listens intently as Ragnvaldr says what he deems needs to be said. Despite his gentle teasing and soft smiles, her frown doesn't waver as she tries to keep a level-head about all of the information that has been exposed to her. 

"My faith is very important to me, Ragnvaldr," she says, eyeing his hand cautiously. "I don't approve of the things you're partaking in, and neither does Alll-mer - but He has never kept me safe when I am within these dungeons; You, on the other hand, have, on multiple accounts.

"I am willing to... to overlook this for the time being. I hope that you don't find my hesitance too crude - I've never been met with this sort of situation before, but you and your well-being are what is most important to me right now. The rest, I suppose, can be ironed out later."

She extends a hand to him as well, fitting her gloved fingers into the palm of his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What about the Dark Priest? Will we be picking him up, wherever he's gone off to?" 

~~~

A relieved smile spreads across his face as they reaffirm their bond once more

“Thank you, my friend. That is all I can ask of you, and all I need to hear right now”

At the mention of the Priest Ragnvaldr looks towards the door

“I doubt he’ll be coming back here. Heh, even when he’s upset with me he’d still expect me to remember his things”

He moves over to pick up Enki’s pack, which had been placed near his makeshift bed. As he feels the weight of it in his hands he is suddenly hit with a terrible realization. He looks to D’arce nervously before focusing back on his and Enki’s belongings, packing them up quickly and moving to snuff out the fire

“We have to find him, now. He still has the Cube, and I- we can’t risk him doing something foolish on his own again. Even if I am unable to speak to insects, I know they’ll be gathering to him while he’s in such an agitated state, so if we follow them they’ll lead us to him”

-

Enki had walked faster than he ever had before, trying to put as much distance between himself and the others as he could. He finally ran out of steam at an alcove used for blood portals, and sat down between the book stand and candelabra. He clutched at his hair as he groaned in misery- just what was he doing here? Why had he agreed, no, why had he suggested that they return to this miserable place? He knew Ragnvaldr wanted Le’garde dead, but surely they would have found a place beyond the Knight’s influence eventually. But he had been stupid, wanting to prove his devotion to the Outlander by making his problems go away. That man made him say and do stupid things without even trying, and even after so much time together it confused the Priest immensely. Just when had he sank from an emissary of darkness, one that would kill another for a wayward glance, to a lovestruck fool that couldn’t share his lover’s company with anyone? It was sickening.

He curled up into a tight ball, determined to wallow in his misery alone, but a steadily encroaching hoard of whispers told him that would not be possible

“Master… why are you upset?” “Master… should we kill… the female?” “Your mate is worried for you… Master” “Master… they are looking for you”

He slowly lifted his gaze when he felt a centipede run across his hair. He reached a hand up to his head and lowered it back down to his eyes, watching as he ran the writhing creature between his fingers. He opened his mouth in silence as he spoke to his subjects

“If no one else will stay by my side, at least you all will”

The centipede turned to face him, it’s antennae quivering

“Master… your mate wants to stay with you… don’t you want to stay with him?”

“Of course I do, but I can’t stand that woman any longer”

“Then why does Master not kill her?”

“You can only think in the short term. If I kill her, ‘my mate’ won’t want to stay with me, so I’m stuck with her unless Ragnvaldr says otherwise”

“What would convince him?”

Enki let out an annoyed growl

“If I knew the answer to that I wouldn’t be here”

“Then Master must convince the female to think like him… or Master must think like the female”

Enki had enough. He squeezed the centipede tightly in his hand, his gloves protecting him from it’s bite. He squeezed until it splattered in his hand, then let the remains fall to the floor among the rest of the gathered insects. The others needed no further prompting, quickly scattering away to leave the Priest to his silent tears.

~~~

At the sight of the Outlander's acceptance, D'arce finally allows a gentle smile to breach past her once-cold expression. She gets back to work on collecting her things, looping her pack and wearing it along her shoulder as she re-ties her arm guards in the anticipation of whatever lies outside of their door. The priest would turn up eventually - for now, the destination was Ma'havre, and they would reach it with or without the help of that man and his awful temper.

Her stride falters at the muted panic in Ragnvaldr's voice, quickly turning to face him. "He took the cube?" she says slowly. Of course he had taken it; Of course he would go out of his way to get abandoned in the City of the Gods, the most dangerous place resting within the dungeons, and of course he would venture in alone. But, most importantly... 

D'arce's brow furrows, already beginning to walk alongside the man as they make a swift exit. "Ma'havre's doors will only open for the one who holds the Cube - if he's already passed over into the city, we'll have no way of getting in until he decides to come out - if he comes out."

\- 

The journey throughout the halls is an exhausting one, to say the very least. Tensions run high between the two of them as they hunt for any sign of movements along the walls and stone floors, following even the smallest insects in the hopes that their direction will lead them to their final missing party member. D'arce was doing her best to keep up her pace alongside Ragnvaldr - despite her wound having been mostly superficial, the effects of the poison were finally beginning to slow her down after being left untreated for so long. Her complexion had gotten pastier the longer they combed through the corridors, legs and throat both growing sore and agitating the Knight as they traveled. 

Despite the unfortunate side-effects, she persisted. The bugs had gotten denser the further down they went, scuttling under foot and nagging them as they flew past eyes and ears. Just before another bend of the hallway, there laid a single door; Roaches and spiders snuck out of it from under the threshold and along gaps by its hinges, evacuating the room in silent waves. D'arce's hand wavers at the latch, glancing back towards Ragnvaldr with uncertainty. 

"You should be the one to open it," she says quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "Alll-mer only knows what he'll do if I'm the first he lays eyes on."

~~~

The Oldegårdian nods, getting in step to slowly open the door. The Dark Priest sits at the opposite end of the small room, and he does not look up at the sound of his entrance. Ragnvaldr calls out to him gently

“Enki?”

The smaller man does not look up, clutching himself tighter and admonishing him half-heartedly

“Just go away…”

Ragnvaldr sighs, relieved that Enki was not hurt, by another or by his own hand. He approaches the Priest as though coming upon a wounded animal, until he is kneeling a few feet in front of him. His voice is as calm as he can make it as he says

“Enki, have you been here the entire time?”

For a moment Enki does not move or speak, but then he gently nods with his head still in his lap

“Do you still have the Cube with you?”

Finally the Priest looks up, and it is evident that he had been crying. He doesn’t move to wipe the tears from his cheeks, instead searching curiously in the deep pockets of his robe. He plucks the Cube out and presents it

“I had forgotten that I had been carrying it, actually”

His eyes narrow in what is intended to be suspicion, but it comes across as more of a pout

“If this is all you wanted from me, take it”

Ragnvaldr takes the Cube from his hand, quickly putting it down on the ground. Before the Priest can ask what he’s doing Ragnvaldr leans forward and wraps the smaller man in a tight embrace. For a moment Ragnvaldr doesn’t even consider D’arce’s reaction, and nuzzles his face against Enki’s neck affectionately

“Don’t be foolish, I came here for you. Get it through your head, your life isn’t yours to throw away anymore; we came here together and we’ll see this through together”

Enki closes his eyes in an attempt to stop any new tears from flowing, and reciprocates the embrace with enthusiasm. He clutches the furs around Ragnvaldr’s shoulders tightly, reopening his eyes and kissing Ragnvaldr gently on the cheek. Ragn pulls away in surprise, looking over his shoulder, only to see that D’arce is not in the room with them. He turns back to his lover and chuckles, running his fingers through his long hair

“That Cube is heavy, how did you forget you were carrying it?”

“I wasn’t exactly in my right mind”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“In a minute”

He leans forward for a kiss on the lips, one which Ragnvaldr reciprocates. He pulls back with a much calmer expression, one that the Outlander takes pride in knowing is meant only for him. He smiles back at him, using his thumb to wipe the tear stains from his cheeks, then helping the smaller man to stand. He hands him his pack and the two walk out of the room together to meet the Knight

“We are ready to go” 

Ragnvaldr says to D’arce with confidence at first, but then he realizes for the first time how pale she is looking 

“D’arce, are you alright?”

~~~

The Knight doesn't dare to enter the room for the duration of their interaction - partially it is for the sake of the mens' privacy, partially it is due to her growing illness, but D'arce would like to tell herself it's simply because she is being "lookout". She keeps watch at the intersection of the hall, arms rested lazily atop her hip guards as she tries to keep her mind on something other than the urge to vomit. The corridor is unnaturally quiet, bar the gentle rustling of insects still nestling back into their hiding places after the storm that Enki had created. 

It feels like ages before Ragnvaldr finally emerges with the Dark Priest in tow. She can't help but release a baited breath she hardly knew she was carrying at the sight of the Cube in hand, and finally her posture straightens to something more serious. She hadn't heard the raise of Enki's voice the entire time - something she was so sure she would be flinching at, even from outside of the room. The Oldegårdian certainly knew how to diffuse the man. 

She's nearly ready to take the lead again before the Outlander stops her, concern laced in his voice. 

"I'm fine," she assures, bobbing her head weakly. "That damned poison has me feeling under the weather, but it's hardly enough to stop me from getting to Ma'havre. Nothing to be done about it." 

~~~

Enki quirked an eyebrow at the mention of D’arce’s poisoning, but his voice was much less harsh than normal as he spoke

“Of course you would mention it now, after we’ve used our only white vial”

He looks like he’s about to roll his eyes, but then a spark of inspiration flits across them and he turns to the barbarian

“Ragnvaldr, do you still have the vial with you?”

Ragnvaldr nods, opening up his pack and fishing it out

“We could always use it to collect wine or some other liquid”

“Good man” Enki says as he takes the vial from him “But it’s a good thing it didn’t come to that. Ah, there’s still a drop left. I may be able to transmute this until it’s restored to full”

He tries to focus on the bottle, but quickly puts his hand up to his forehead, rubbing it to ease the ensuing headache

“I’m still too drained, but I should have some opium with me. Once we enter the city and find a safe space I will work on this”

Despite how matter-of-factly Enki was treating the situation, Ragnvaldr can’t hide a little smile from spreading across his face. He would have not done this even if he was prompted just a couple hours ago- his mood changes so drastically with even a little affection.

Enki lights his pipe and places it in his mouth as walks past his two teammates, taking the lead for the time being.

“We should keep moving now, we’re not far from the gates. Do try to keep up, D’arce”

Ragnvaldr looks down at the lady-knight with amusement. As far as he can recall, this is the first time Enki has used her first name this entire trip. He gives her a small pat on the shoulder before he too begins to move.

~~~

Who was this man?

Helpful, considerate, sensitive to others' well being - even using her name in casual conversation instead of spitting out her maiden name or simply calling her "The Knight" in passing. Surely this wasn't the same Dark Priest that had threatened her with death hardly an hour ago; Surely Enki would never set aside their differences so quickly when faced with something as petty to him as D'arce's health.

She can't fathom what on earth has gotten into him. Ragnvaldr can hardly hold back a grin as he passes by her, her eyes bugging and brows shot up as she stares back at him in disbelief. Maybe there was hope for the man after all. 

D'arce travels at the tail of the group for the remainder of the walk to Ma'havre's gates. Her energy, both physical and social, have left her in slow waves, gradually slowing her pace and leaving her with only her thoughts and the biting nausea threatening to claw its way up her throat. She walks in silence behind the other two, reminding herself of what all she had left behind to get this far.

Le'garde had to have noticed her absence in Rondon by now - his second horse rider, his most faithful knight, missing in action from their usual patrols and nowhere to be found in her bunk. There's a sudden fear that strikes her that he knew she was here, or that she would be interjected just as she reached the Gods' tables - he had always been very good at reading her intentions in their past travels, and she had never been one to hold her tongue about her opinions. What if her expressions had been too transparent? What if he was anticipating her betrayal? What sentence would she serve for trying to overthrow him after this many years of dedication?

~~~

The bugs that lined the hallway leading up to the great stone doors were stubborn, choosing to be trampled underfoot instead of moving aside. Enki had no time for insubordinate subjects, so he paid them no mind as he placed the Cube into the slot and watched as the doors opened for him and his party. The roundabout entrance to the city was long-since empty of ghouls, and was at most a waste of time now. It is only once they reached the city proper that a sense of ancient dread could be felt. The group takes no more than a few steps into the city before a scarab approaches them, as enthusiastic as a welcoming party if it wasn’t so dangerous. Enki steps forward in an attempt to negotiate for safe passage.

“I am your Master, and they are my mates”

It was hard to keep a stoic expression as the words left him. ‘Mate’, ‘young’, and ‘Master’ were the only levels of familiarity a bug could understand; there were no such concepts as ‘friends’, ‘associates’, or the like. They were certainly not his children, and only humans that spoke the language of insects could be given the noble moniker of Master, so mates would have to do.

The scarab’s expression did not change, but it’s voice was accusatory

“Your female is weak”

“I will cure her, if you would guide us to a place to rest”

“What do you have to offer me?”

Enki’s eyes narrowed and his expression soured

“I am your Master, you serve me”

Scarabs were more challenging to control than regular insects, as he could not use his size alone to intimidate them. This would come down to a battle of wills, but Enki would not bend to his inferior. The expression on the bug never changed, but it lowered it’s body to the ground as though under a heavy weight, finally speaking

“Yes Master, I understand. Follow me”

It turned around and went up a staircase before waiting for them at the top. Enki looked back to his team as he wiped sweat from his brow

“The creature will take us to a safe place. Let’s go”

He had no more to say as he followed the Scarab deeper into the city

-

The giant bug led them to an abandoned house in a back alley, away from probing eyes. It lowered one leg in order to replicate a bow before it turned around and scuttled off. A tattered curtain still clung to the doorway of the small home, and it nearly came off as the three moved it aside to enter. Enki immediately sat down against the far wall and took the vial out of his pack, concentrating on it silently. The one room abode had an actual hearth to set a fire in, which Ragnvaldr stoked to life as he looked over to D’arce and said

“Please, take a seat on the bed”

~~~

The majority of the trip is lost to D'arce under her heavy thoughts, but nothing can truly mask the heavy feeling of entering the City of the Gods. Ma'havre's misty streets are a welcome change from the dusty halls of the dungeons, but they bring with them a new slew of dangerous enemies that lie in wait underneath every crumbling building and empty pathway that stands between the three of them and the Council. 

By this time, D'arce shouldn't be surprised at Enki's communication to bugs - she has seen the interactions many times before now, each one leaving her a little less incredulous - but to watch a scarab so easily submit to the priest still has her in awe. She had nearly been prepared to lash out at the creature upon its arrival, one hand settling on the handle of her sword before Enki had taken the initiative to speak with it on their behalf. 

Whatever they discuss, it seems to work in their favor enough to grant them some sort of respite for the time being: A small home comes into view beyond the mist, hidden in a small nook of the city and away from prying eyes - perfect for them to rest in until they were all in peak health to continue their journey.

D'arce had already been eyeing bed long before Ragnvaldr's invitation, but at his request she moves to settle into it. Sitting quickly evolves into lying down, which sends her curling up on her side facing the slowly-kindling fire in the center of the room as she finds enough comfort to finally rest her eyes. She doesn't bother to open them as she speaks, simply mumbling through the pilly fabric of the blanket to grab the Outlander's attention. "How long does it take?" she mutters. "The... the transmuting?"

~~~

The Outlander looks in her direction with a gentle smile before turning back to ask the Priest plainly

“Enki, how long will that take?”

The question coming from him should reduce the chance of a waspish reply. Enki glances up from the bottle with a perturbed expression before looking back down at it

“Normally it would take seconds, but that pertains to items I am familiar with. I know how to create the white liquid, but I do not know what the purple liquid or red liquid are derived from. I must use my previous experiences with the liquids and some educated guesses or else we could end up with milk, glue, or any number of white liquids”

Ragnvaldr blinked in surprise at the notion, but nodded slowly to show he understood. Enki gave a small smirk then continued  
“I’m sure you realize a procedure such as this requires concentration. So if you wou-”

He is cut off by a sudden intake of breath, placing a hand over his spear wound. Ragnvaldr looks at him first with concern, then determination

“You still need actual bandages, and you haven’t yet eaten today. You stay here and focus on that while I gather supplies”

Enki looks up at him as he rises to his feet, and it is clear he is unsure about being left alone with the Knight. Ragnvaldr smiles reassuringly down at him; the first few syllables of his sentence are spoken in his native language, but then he shakes his head and continues in the group’s common tongue

“I trust you to look after her, Enki. I will be back”

He picks up his things and leaves the hideout. Enki’s gaze his lowered, but it is clear his mind has drifted as a small smile makes its way onto his face. The expression is fleeting, however, and soon he is staring intently down at the vial once more.

~~~

D'arce does her best to concentrate on Enki's words through her exhaustion. The gist of it is caught at the very least, and she bobs her head slowly to assure him that she understands the complex nature of the skill. She herself had never bothered to learn any "spells" or offhand skills in her time in the dungeons prior - her fighting had been adequate enough to move her through its trials, and nothing else had ever felt necessary to her survival. Greater blood golems, necromancy, healing whispers - it was completely foreign to her, but the priest seemed to have taken to them very easily. At least one of them would come in handy on their trip.

Ragnvaldr's departure hardly stirs her, and before long the room is only left with the sound of the crackling fire and her own gentle coughing. Only Enki remains; Same poisoning, but reversed roles for the two travelers.

"What happens if it is glue, or milk, or any of that nonsense?" she says softly, one eye cracking open to watch the man from over the flames. "What is our 'Plan B' if that falls through?"

~~~

“We find you a fresh one”

Enki answers simply, not looking up from the vial. After a moment or two he pauses, lifting his head and appearing to stare into space. A brown-gray moth with fuzzy antennae comes in from the doorway and approaches him. He outstretches a finger and it perches daintily, it’s wings flapping as it stabilizes itself. He utters a quick command to it and it flies off the same way it entered. As soon as it is out of sight he returns his gaze to the vial. His voice is akin to that of a parent describing their child as he speaks

“That moth may not return- not out of disobedience, it will simply forget it’s mission. My influence over them only lasts so long; we were lucky to find this vial. Scarabs are smarter, but I do not want to rely on them for they are too ambitious”

He finally turns his attention to the ailing lady-knight

“Our best bet is to see what Ragnvaldr returns with, but I will keep pursuing this method. It makes an interesting challenge, at the very least”

~~~

"You've never been one to jump to my aid before," she mumbles halfheartedly. The implication behind her words feels... improper, however, and she swallows before trying again. "I mean to say -- it's kind of you to help me, despite... everything. All of the pettiness and bickering that we do." 

She attempts to hold Enki's gaze for a moment longer, trying to gauge his emotions from across the room. Another question still sits on her tongue, but there's something very daunting about asking him when they're so alone. Ragnvaldr was not here to interfere if another argument broke out, and the last thing the Knight needed atop her revolting organs was to be set ablaze. Still...

"Is what Ragnvaldr said about the two of you... true? I would assume so, given his tone, but -- it's a difficult situation for me to grasp. I hope that I don't sound daft..."

~~~

He quirks an eyebrow at her words, but any potential quip is silenced as she elaborates. He didn’t respond verbally, only giving a slight nod that he couldn’t even guarantee she saw from her position. As she speaks again, this time about a much more probing topic, his shoulders stiffen reflexively. He feels a defensive anger begin to boil in his gut but he sighs deeply to quell it- the fact that she wanted to know more, and was not immediately blinded by some sense of religious obligation, was commendable. He puts down the vial and lifts up his legs, resting his lower arms on his knees as he focuses his complete attention on her.

“It is true, he is much more to me than a bodyguard. Honestly, I’m not sure what aspect of it is confusing to you. The physical aspect of our relationship is certainly pleasant, but first and foremost I trust him. I meant it when I said he is the best thing to come into my life, even if I know he would not say the same about me”

He looks away suddenly after that last bit, his expression tight with embarrassment. When they were not looking down on him those big blue eyes of hers were entrancing, and threatened to make him say more than he wanted to admit to her. Or himself.

~~~

While the mention of "physical" romance still scrunches her nose up, D'arce can't help but to look past it as Enki shrugs off his impact on the Outlander. It's an off-handed comment, really, something that he seems to regret speaking of the moment it passes his lips and causing him to remove himself from their mutual gaze in favor of staring down the floor.

Her brow furrows at the implication - it hardly seemed that way when Ragnvaldr had spoken of the Dark Priest on their way to collect him. Quite the opposite, really: The man had threatened her, even, to ensure that she would not separate the two, lest she wants to lose her life. 

"He said to me once something about... impactfulness, back when I thought I was taking my leave from your party," she says, eyes drifting as she tries to remember the encounter clearer. "That the three of us - you, Cahara, and myself - were the closest he had to a family now. Very dear to him.

"And he made very sure that I knew of your worth in his eyes, too, before we collected you from that godawful, bug-infested sacrificial room you were sulking in. You are far too quick to dismiss your own impact."

~~~

Her words are truthful, he knows it logically, but he can’t control the bitterness that rises from his throat in retaliation

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. When we separated from the dungeons the first time he picked me out of convenience, because he was lonely and I happened to be alone. I tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length, even threatened his life, but still he stayed. He is not in love with me, he is just terrified of being alone again”

He regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth, wincing as though he had just been smacked. He grabs a handful of hair and tugs at it gently, defensively, as his voice lowers significantly

“I see how happy he is whenever we visit Cahara and he is able to play with his children. I’m sure he was an excellent father before his loss, and he would be again, but I cannot provide him a child. I have ruminated repeatedly about allowing him to sleep with a woman so that he could continue his bloodline, but I… can’t do it. It would be meaningless if he was not there to raise the child, and I could not bear to share him. 

That fool- I love him so much, but he wastes his time with me”

For the second time today tears cloud his vision, but he is quick to wipe them away with his arm, determined to not let D’arce see them

~~~

"We were all alone when we left the dungeons, Enki," she said simply, trying to catch his eyes again despite his attempts to isolate himself. "I hardly think it was 'convenience.'"

She listens in silence for the entirety of the man's troubles, waiting until he's taken a breath to comment on the baggage he carries. In all of her time traveling with the Dark Priest, she's never heard him be so open under her presence; What on earth has changed it's hard to tell, but it brings a newfound softness to her gaze to see him in a new light.

"My own experiences may be in poor taste, given the reason we're traveling to the Old Gods, but... I understand that feeling well: Not being able to provide the things your loved one desires, fearing losing them in the process. I've been burdened with it for many years."

~~~

At first it seems like the Priest has no more to say, for he picks up the vial and continues to concentrate on it. The liquid slowly begins to rise, shifting from purple to red and back to white in the process. Once the vial is about halfway full he responds without looking her way

“Le’garde… I was drawn to this place the first time by visions of him. I didn’t care who he was as a person, I just wanted to find him so I could get the damn hallucinations to stop. I guess in a way they’ve never left.

What was it about him that drew you to him?”

~~~

D’arce had nearly fallen asleep after the conversation had fallen short; The lull of the fire draws her eyes closed, and she tries to focus hard on the noise above anything else. So long as she can find pattern in the crackling of the wood, she doesn’t focus on the twinges of pain that shoots through her stomach, nor the itching feeling in the back of her throat.

At the mention of Le’garde’s name her eyes crack open, a sour look plastered on her face as she recalls it in her tired state. 

“I… I had just left the Rondon knights. I had brought shame upon my family, too, at the very idea that I wouldn’t follow in their footsteps, and I had nowhere left to turn. Le'garde took an interest to my devotion - said that he saw "great potential" in me, or something of the like - and… that was it. The way that he saw me as an equal to him, his unwavering determination, and all that talk about uniting the lands unlike any other foul king could ever dream to - it was everything I had been yearning for, ever since becoming a squire. And he was so sweet on me… we became close very quickly, and I just knew: This was the man I was willing to sacrifice my life for; For his squad and for him personally. 

"But I was wrong," she adds abruptly, lips thinning. "It was silly of me to follow him so blindly, but he was the last man in my life that I trusted. He scared me so much right before his imprisonment, and I knew he wasn't himself - I knew that the conquering of Oldegård would be fruitless - but I followed him anyway because I trusted him. And it hurt so many people."

~~~

He had expected about as much from her initial explanation. However, as she describes her frustrations with her captain and even humbles herself enough to apologize, Enki diverts his attention towards her once more. He must be succumbing to the madness of the dungeons, for he can feel himself warming up to this poor, confused woman. His expression is the softest she’s ever seen it as he says

“I… do apologize for what I said about you and Le’garde earlier. I have no room to speak, for I am now as hopelessly in love as you used to be. Love makes us stupid, I suppose”

He looks down mildly, giving one last go at the vial in his hands. It fills before their eyes, and he tips it forward just enough for a drop to fall onto his gloved finger. He tastes it and grimaces

“Yeah, that’s about right”

He stands up and walks over to D’arce, gently guiding her head so that the liquid can go down her throat. His expression and voice are calm, but there is an unnerving aura about him as he looks down at the ailing lady-knight

“You do realize Ragnvaldr cannot know what I said to you? If he ever even suspected that I would share him with another, I would know where he got the idea from”

He lets the very tips of his fingers brush along her hair, as though gently caressing a dying animal

~~~

If the urge to throw up hadn't been present for the majority of their travel as it was, surely the taste of the foul white liquid would have rivaled it. Her brows knit together as she chokes it down, trying desperately to cough the sensation out of her throat. It doesn't do anything to mask Enki's tone of voice, however, as he brushes away at her bangs, looming over her expectantly.

"I wouldn't," she croaks out. Her face turns screwy at the sound of her own voice, quickly swallowing the lump left in her throat and trying again, this time much clearer. "I have no reason to go gossiping to him about our conversations - especially when it involves that sort of thing."

~~~

He gives her a sly smile and a brief nod

“Rest now, you need to regain your strength”

He returns to his position against the wall, sitting down and keeping watch over the door. Though his outward demeanor seems bored, he eagerly awaits Ragnvaldr’s return. It is not long at all before the curtain parts and the barbarian enters, looking a little tired but otherwise no worse for wear. Enki looks up at him with a small smile as he approaches D’arce’s bed.

“Any luck?”

Ragnvaldr rummages through his bag and takes out a blue vial and some mint leaves, placing both at the foot of the bed. He then walks over to Enki and kneels in front of him.

“I found some wrapping for you and a blue vial for each of you, but I could not find another white vial. Were you able to transmute the old one?”

He nods, and though his smile is small Ragnvaldr can tell he is proud of his achievement. He smiles back heartily

“Hopefully you can learn to do that with others potions, too. We may never need new ones again. Now, lift your robe”

The Priest lets out a ‘tsk’ noise

“I can treat my own wounds, thank you”

The barbarian pays him no mind, taking out the bandages, another handkerchief, and his waterskin. Enki rolls his eyes and hoists up his robe. He doesn’t care that he wears nothing underneath it, but he is glad the Knight is asleep so he doesn’t have to watch her make a big show of avoiding her gaze. Ragnvaldr unwraps the handkerchief strips and tosses the bunch into the fire, the flames rising a bit in response. He wets the whole handkerchief and dabs it at the wound while Enki gulps down the blue vial. Before Ragnvaldr begins on the bandages he pulls some bread and dried mushrooms out of his pack.

“You need to eat actual food, too”

“I’m fin-”

He is cut off as the Outlander unceremoniously shoves the bread into his mouth. Enki glares daggers at him but does not remove the bread, doing his best to eat it without hands as Ragnvaldr bandages him up. By the time Ragnvaldr is finished and putting things away he doesn’t even have to remind Enki to eat the mushrooms. He looks over at him with a smug expression

“So you were hungry. Who would have guessed”

“Be quiet, you fool”

Ragnvaldr moves over to Enki’s left side and sits himself against the wall, sighing contentedly as he does so. Enki glances over at D’arce before deciding he doesn’t care what she’ll think once she wakes, and he bends over to rest his head in Ragnvaldr’s lap. The barbarian looks down briefly in mild surprise before quickly changing to a contended smile. He places his hand on top of the Priest’s head and both of them have trouble keeping their eyes open. Soon everyone is sleeping as comfortably as they can in the dark and dusty room.

~~~

D’arce hasn’t had a premonition for a very long time.

Nightmares were different; After the horrors that she had been through in the dungeons years ago, nightmares were a near nightly occurrence. Troubling dreams popped up every time she shut her eyes - visions of ferocious beasts, witches contorting their figures, men with beaks veering back to blast one’s skull apart--

But premonitions… she hasn’t had one of those since her traveling days with Le’garde. She hasn’t felt this sense of imminent dread since before the takeover of Oldegård, when the captain had been staring down scriptures of the Old Gods and speaking of idols and artifacts. 

The sensation startles her awake hours after Ragnvaldr’s return, sitting her upright in the bed and sending two hands up to rub at her face as she tries to shake off the anxiety that has been laced into her veins. The room had turned deathly quiet as the night had carried on - no more roaring fire, no gentle voices echoing off the stone walls - only the sound of soft breathing from the doorway as the remaining two party members rest off the struggle of entering Ma’havre.

Feeling significantly better than she had the day before, D’arce swings her legs off of the cot to stand, her boot tapping a lone blue vial left at her bedside. Ragnvaldr must have collected them, thinking of her in her illness amidst his gathering late last evening. The gesture brings a soft smile to her face, picking up the glass and pulling the cork out as she collects her things. The mint leaves are not forgotten either - they’re slipped gently into her pack as well as she ties it back on her shoulder and passes the remains of the firewood to approach the two men. 

Their resting position has to be forcefully pushed aside in her mind - it didn’t matter what they participated in, she had to remind herself, they were just here to get a job done. They would surely part ways again afterwards, just like the last time. 

With that in mind D’arce’s knuckle rasps softly against a crate, hoping to stir them peacefully. “We ought to be moving,” she said matter-of-factly. “Alll-mer only knows what’s happening in Rondon the longer we dawdle.”

~~~

Enki had always been a light sleeper, so the sudden sound of D’arce rising stirred him to half-consciousness. He opened his eyes slightly to see that everyone was not in immediate danger, so he was not compelled to rise. This was the closest he had been to Ragnvaldr in days and he intended to milk it as long as he could. He was so warm and his touch so reassuring, he was Enki’s own mental remedy to the dungeon’s madness.

It was not until D’arce walked over and spoke brusquely at the two of them that Enki actually opened his eyes. He stretched his arms up as though he were a cat on his master’s lap before sitting up and gently nudging Ragnvaldr’s shoulder

“Time to wake up, hjärtanskär”

Enki’s voice was practically melodious as he spoke, and it caused the larger man to stir much more pleasantly than expected. He smiled sleepily, leaning forward as though he was going to give a good morning kiss before noticing D’arce above them. He offered her a small, abashed smile

“Ah, good morning, D’arce! I’m happy to see you are feeling better today”

The two men rise and begin getting themselves in order as though nothing were out of the ordinary, though Enki feels as giddy as a misbehaved schoolboy. He can’t help but wonder what D’arce’s face would have looked like if they had actually kissed

~~~

The gentle lean towards one another is not missed by D'arce, and she is quick to avert her gaze to the door, shoulders stiffening as she waits for the two of them to collect their things.

"You have Enki to thank for that. I don't know if I could have gotten out of that bed today if we had waited a moment longer," she said coolly, gently fidgeting with a lace on her armor. "I've had the vial that you collected as well - that was very kind of you. Thank you.

"The prayer spot is not even an hour's walk from here, if my memory still serves me well. What do you suggest we do after our questions are answered? Do we... brave the void?"

~~~

Enki’s only response to D’arce’s praise is an averted gaze and the smallest of grins, which causes Ragnvaldr to quirk an eyebrow in surprise. He calls to the Dark Priest playfully

“What, no exclamations of how she wasn’t worth the effort, or proclamations of how it was nothing for someone with your skills? Just what did I miss that caused you to warm up to D’arce so quickly?”

Enki glares over at him as he kneels down to pick up his pack

“Do you want us to continue bickering or do you want us to get out of here?”

Ragnvaldr chuckles at Enki’s distress, but it is quickly cut short as D’arce elaborates on the notion of their mission. The two men glance at each other before Ragnvaldr looks back to her and speaks, his voice much more somber  
“We… honestly don’t know. We have no idea what the New Gods will instruct us to do. We must have faith in their council and trust that they will guide us towards the best outcome”

Ragnvaldr’s words were sincere, but Enki still looked scornfully down at the ground. There was no guarantee the New Gods would even know what to do about Le’garde, or if they’d even be willing to help. He became so wrapped up in his thoughts that Ragnvaldr had to come over and place a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of it. He gave him a reassuring smile as he said

“We won’t learn anything by standing around here. Let’s move”

Enki gave a small nod, briefly placing his hand over Ragnvaldr’s own before the three made their way out of the home and back onto the ancient streets.

-

Perhaps the Scarabs that watched them from atop the buildings were instructing Enki along the safest path, or perhaps it was divine intervention, but the three of them made it to the pit of enlightenment without encountering any other monstrosities. As they entered the small room and faced the lone book Enki looked to the other members of his party

“You two can talk with them, I would only reiterate what you say”

He moved over to one of the walls and looked up at the carvings of the various New Gods, determined to hear no more on the subject. Ragnvaldr let him go, glancing quickly to D’arce before turning to the book and closing his eyes to pray. When he opened them again he found himself in the Grand Hall, gazing up at the massive statues that stared unmoving down at him. He let out a quivering breath- he was finally here.

“Welcome” said the New God with the body of carved marble “You have earned three questions. Use them wisely”

Ragnvaldr went to open his mouth, but closed it and looked intently over at D’arce. His hatred for Le’garde still burned deep within him, but he suddenly felt nervous about proclaiming his desire for his death in front of her. She wanted only for him to be dethroned, and while it would not satisfy him the same way death would, he wanted to be D’arce’s enemy as little as she wanted to be his. He clenched his fists, his voice stern as he allowed her to make the first move.

“You… may ask first”

~~~

D’arce chuckled at the exchange, crossing her arms as she glances back at the two. 

“Near-death experiences make even the strongest soldiers babble. We’re only blessed that the priest could stomach my ramblings while you were away.”

As the remaining two party members collect their belongings and ready themselves for the travel, the Knight parts the curtain at the door for them, returning them back to the misty ruins of Ma’havre to carry on their journey.

-

The pit of enlightenment opens up before them after an oddly-peaceful walk through the city. It’s as if no time had passed since their last visit - the same worn out rug, the same rickety bookstand and indistinguishable faces of past gods hovering above them in stone - but the anticipation of meeting the gods still feels exactly like it did the very first time, and D’arce cannot help herself as she gently rubs the sweat off of her palms as she approaches the book with Ragnvaldr. One hand is set on its scripture and her eyes shut, mouthing a soft prayer to her God as she feels the world contort at her will.

When her eyes open, she is met with the same daunting council as she had been judged by nearly five years ago. She awaits for the Outlander to speak his mind, knowing very well that his motives to stand before the council are far more dire than hers, but he passes the question off to her almost instantaneously. She glances towards him with uncertainty, eyeing him questionably before taking the floor before them. Her hands clasped behind her back as formally as possible as she parts her lips, bowing her head to the Gods.

"Dear Lords: The Yellow King, Le'garde, found his way to your throne using manipulation, murder, and a false prophecy to guide the way. He aims to unite the lands, but his legacy is nothing but a fallacy - he is a fraud, a selfish devil wearing a God's crown. What must we do to dethrone him? What could we do?"

~~~

Ragnvaldr is surprised to hear such vitriol from D’arce’s mouth aimed at Le’garde. It occurs to him that something truly drastic must have changed in her relationship with Le’garde for her to make the journey here at all, and that he may have underestimated just how far she was willing to go. He does not have time to dwell on it for long, however, as the hushed whispers of the New Gods settle down and the one that welcomed them speaks again.

“The Yellow King is a creature all his own, neither New nor Old. Mortals stand no chance before him- ascension is your only hope to dethrone him of his prophecy”

Ragnvaldr’s flesh rises at the notion of becoming a New God, and it is difficult for him to find words as he takes a step towards the towering figures

“My Lords, what would we need to do… if we wanted to do more than dethrone the King? What would we have to do to kill him?”

There is no further deliberation, and the marble statue speaks yet again

“Your answer remains the same. The Yellow King cannot be dethroned without death, and death is the only way to make him submit”

Ragnvaldr steels himself for their last question

“Lords, is it possible to reverse ascension once our task is complete?”

The dialogue between the New Gods continues for minutes on end, but the marbled one eventually speaks

“Mortals fight and die for the honor of ascension, why would anyone refuse such a gift? We do not know if it is possible, but we wish for you to embrace your new life should you choose it”

As Ragnvaldr feels the world shift and they return to the small, sparse room he puts his hand to his forehead to steady himself. Enki comes over with concern evident in his gaze

“What did they say?”

~~~

And that was that. The order had been given by the Gods themselves - it was no longer a worst-case-scenario that she had hypothesized time and time again in her travels, making her sick with anxiety at the very thought. It was real now, and it was the only proper way to remove Le'garde from his unholy chair at the top of the food chain. 

D'arce had stilled the moment Ragnvaldr mentioned such a thing, wide blue eyes boring holes into his skull as she listens to his question. It isn't out of anger, truthfully - the Outlander had the courage to ask the question she most feared, and the Gods had given the man a perfect middle ground: Kill the Yellow King to dethrone him, or continue to submit under his watchful eye. It was exactly what he had wanted out of this trip, right? She had never needed to ask him to know exactly what his intentions were with Le'garde; It has always been the same, ever since they had first met. 

But now they would have to come to terms with it - and she isn't so sure that she's ready to.

As the vision fades, Enki's voice is the first thing that draws her back into Ma'havre's reality. Her fingers slipped from the pages of the book, dropping back at her side as she processes what the Gods have told them.

He cannot be dethroned without death, and death is the only way to make him submit.

It was pathetic of her to ever cry over her former captain, she knows - he didn't deserve a single tear from her anymore - but she can't choke back the feeling of misty eyes this time around. A hushed apology is uttered under her breath as she excuses herself from the room, pushing between them to stand outside as she attempts to catch her breath. 

When she is sure that they haven't followed her immediately, the first broken sob finally escapes her. She clasps a hand over her mouth in a feeble attempt to muffle her distress, but it was only a matter of time before she was caught acting so ridiculous. 

And it was ridiculous - she tries to make that statement known in her mind long before the priest has the gall to say it to her first. She had come too far to break down over something like this. It was ridiculous.

~~~

From within the pit of enlightenment Enki’s voice can be heard rising, followed by him bursting out and walking straight past D’arce. It is not until Ragnvaldr calls out after him and he turns around that he notices D’arce’s tears. His angry expression falters momentarily, and when it reappears his words are not directed at her

“This is ridiculous! Why did we even ask these fools anything if they weren’t going to have any useful answers!”

Ragnvaldr looks at the Priest sternly as he responds

“You would insult divine beings feet from their sacred hall?”

“Of course I would, when those ‘divine beings’ are nothing more than regular men with longer lives and nothing to show for it! They’re charlatans, the entire lot of them! I refuse to believe there’s no way to undo Godhood, or better still to gain God-like powers without being like them!”

Ragnvaldr let out a growl of frustration

“Then what do you suppose we do, Enki? We’ve come this far and you want to back out now?”

“I never said that” Enki responded, his gaze determined “I’m saying we need to know more, seeing as they clearly don’t want to admit their ‘gift’ can be undone”

Enki put his knuckles to his chin in thought, seeming to speak to himself more than the others

“The Libraries must have an answer, they have to…”

Now that his immediate ire is distracted, he looks up again at D’arce. He looks quickly away, clearly uncomfortable with her tears

“The libraries could have information on… removing divinity, perhaps. I can’t say for certain, we won’t know until we get there”

He taps his foot, looking ready to bolt if they don’t move immediately, but Ragnvaldr puts a hand up to him to wait. He puts a hand on D’arce’s shoulder and looks down at her with concern  
“I’m sorry you had to hear my intentions put so plainly, I should have been honest with you from the beginning. But Enki is right, we don’t know that this is truly our only recourse yet. Are you able to continue?”

~~~

"Your intentions," she says bluntly, voice still thick with emotion. "Were perfectly clear. They have been clear for many years - and hearing it at the council does not shock me the way you think it does."

D'arce wipes at her cheeks with both palms, trying to remove the indication of any flushing or tear streaks left on her face before continuing. "I won't be going into detail about it right now, though. If Enki believes there's another way, I don't see the harm in checking the libraries. Even if we are only stalling the inevitable."

She takes a small step away from the Outlander, pulling his hand from her shoulder gently as she tries to compose herself under their criticizing gazes. "Lead the way, then."

~~~

Ragnvaldr sighs as D’arce distances herself from him, following behind Enki towards Ma’havre’s vast library. He had stumbled over his words completely- he should have told D’arce how strong she was, how he can’t imagine how difficult this situation must be for her. Instead he had made her seem inept and himself sound like a fool. It seemed Enki’s favorite insult for him was well-earned after all. He takes up the rear of the group with a grimace, praying they could find something to lift the party’s spirits.

-

The three of them had been in the library for hours, scouring through any book even vaguely related to New Gods. Ragnvaldr’s brain was now filled with useless facts about past teams and their journeys to ascension, but nothing about undoing ascension once it was achieved. He leaned against a shelf by the main entrance of the library with a sigh, needing a break from so much monotony. Enki was a few bookshelves in, still searching vehemently as he grumbled loudly in a language Ragnvaldr did not understand. He was getting himself more and more worked up and the barbarian was not looking forward to the moment he snapped, but nevertheless he would be there to comfort him when he did.

~~~

Had D'arce's hopes not already been in the gutter, the hours of fruitless searching through the library might have worn on her just the same as it was for Enki - but she had lost that optimism long before they had passed under the archway into the building. She had seated herself at a lone desk along the bookshelves nearly an hour ago, awaiting the moment that the dark priest would give up and allow them to leave. Leaned over, head rested in her hands, she passes her gaze over Ragnvaldr as he lingers by the doorway.

"You've given up too?" she hums, a disinterested glaze over her eyes. "I feel as though most of these books are but keynotes of Valteil's work after ascension and nothing more..."

~~~

Ragnvaldr looks her way tiredly, giving a small nod of agreement

“I think you’re right”

He heaves himself off of the shelf and walks over to the desk, collapsing into a chair opposite the lady-knight. For a moment he says nothing, just leans his head back and listens to Enki’s mumbling. Finally he adjusts his position so that he’s looking at D’arce again, his eyes full of empathy as he says

“I apologize for earlier, I did not intend to insult your intelligence. I’m sure you knew, it was not as though I hid my intentions the first time we met. I just saw no point in bringing it up to you again, hurting you more when you were already making such a sacrifice. This cannot be easy for you, and that’s why I do hope we can find another way to stop him”

He slowly places a hand out onto the table, offering it to her with sincerity and warmth.

~~~

D'arce does not attempt to strike up further conversation when Ragnvaldr moves to sit closer; She continues to run her fingers through her hair, listening to the creaking of wood and Enki's muffled frustrations from a few shelves back until the Outlander decides to speak up, hand held out to her with a soft look in his eyes.

She finally turns her attention to him - something first so brisk and formal, but then turning gentler at the realization that Ragnvaldr had taken the blame for her sadness - and she sighs as she rests her hand in his own, squeezing his palm reassuringly.

"You didn't insult my intelligence, Ragnvaldr. I'm sorry that I... gave you the impression that I was upset with you - you've done nothing wrong," she said, her eyes leaving him as she tries to find the proper words to explain herself. "I... I had feared that there would be no other way to dethrone him. I've thought about it for days and seemed to have come to terms with that possibility, but hearing you outright ask the Gods - and listening to them confirm that it was the only way--"

She trails off as her eyebrows furrow, attempting to swallow down her emotions again. "It was very immature of me to run out on the two of you like that. I hope you'll forgive me."

~~~

“I never blamed you”

He says gently, but before he can say more Enki’s voice reverberates across the room  
“Damn It ALL!”

The sound of multiple books being shoved to the floor can be heard, and Ragnvaldr removes his hand from D’arce’s to place it on his forehead in exasperation. He rises from the chair stiffly, not looking at the lady-knight as he mutters an ‘excuse me’ and walks towards Enki’s location. For a few moments it sounds like he is attempting to talk the Dark Priest down, but it is clear Enki is having none of it from his swears and the continued sounds of fallen books. 

Suddenly Enki calls out, both angry and startled

“Let go of me! Put me down, you massive ape!”

After a moment Ragnvaldr appears from behind the closest bookshelf with a stern expression on his face. He has the Priest slumped unceremoniously over his shoulder, the smaller man practically hissing with indignation

“You’ll reopen my wound! Do you want me to bleed all over you?!”

Ragnvaldr says nothing until they approach the desk, then he slides the Priest off his shoulder and points toward the chair

“Sit down. Be quiet”

Enki arms are stiff at his sides and his fists clenched like a petulant child

“How dare you! Who do you think you’re talking to?!”

Ragnvaldr ignores him, sitting in the chair instead, stock still with his eyes closed. Enki glares at him a moment before turning around to storm off, but it is clear Ragnvaldr had anticipated as much. He looks over to the Priest and grabs the back of his robe, yanking him back and sending him collapsing into the larger man’s lap. While Enki is still startled with the fall Ragnvaldr draws him in close with one hand and places the other on top of his head, cradling him. Enki tries to pull himself away but he stops once Ragnvaldr speaks

“Enki, I know you’re afraid. I am too”

For a moment Enki just glares at him, his mouth open for a rebuttal that does not come. Then his enraged demeanor subsides and he reaches his arms up to wrap them around the barbarian’s neck. His words are muffled as he speaks into Ragnvaldr’s hair

“There has to be another way, there has to be… I don’t want to be one of them, I just want to be with you…”

Ragnvaldr sighs, patting the Priest gently on the back

“I feel the same, but we must accept it. We are out of options”

~~~

At the sound of Enki's violent distress D'arce retracts her hand from Ragnvaldr's just as quickly as he does the same, twisting in her seat towards the area that the Dark Priest had been vehemently searching through. As the Outlander rises from her seat so does she, anxiously awaiting the bad news that was sure to come. Nothing good was ever a byproduct of Enki's anger.

When Ragnvaldr delivers the man back to the desk minutes later, nothing has to be said about the matter - his very posture spoke volumes about what little the books had revealed to him. Even a man with the soul of the enlightened, under the knowledge left by a dozen Gods, could not make any sense of their situation. Ragnvaldr seats himself once more, dragging Enki down with him to wrap him in a comforting embrace as the Knight stands opposite of them, leaned against a bookshelf as she soaks in the reality of their situation.

Le'garde had to die. Someone - one of them - had to ascend in order to kill him. To end his life, permanently. 

"Realistically," she starts, voice soft so as to not disturb their mourning. "Only one of us has to make that sacrifice. Nothing has been written about leaving ascension, but that doesn't mean it's impossible."

While she is speaking towards the two men before her, her words seem to go right through their ears; Of course they've become too invested in their "companionship", curling into one another as though their worlds were about to end. Her gut twists as she watches the act, caught somewhere in between disgust and empathy. "If... if someone were to take the plunge," she continues, raising her voice by a hair in the hopes of snapping them out of their inappropriate embrace. "There's no law saying that we can't return. No God would ever write about the reversal of Godhood. Ragnvaldr heard it himself, too: It was unheard of by the council that anyone would want to abandon their ascension, so of course they wouldn't just...--"

It's as though she's talking to thin air, truthfully. The longer D'arce rambles - and the longer she is brushed off - the more her anger boils her blood until she trails off, pushing off of the shelves to stand upright as all patience is lost.

"-- I am deeply sorry for interrupting your reprehensible acts, but perhaps we could put a pin in them for once. The Yellow King - Le'garde, my captain, the man that I cared for - is about to wiped off the face of the earth by our hands; I don't suppose you could find the time of day amidst your sodomy to care, could you?"

~~~

Ragnvaldr had tried his best to listen to D’arce as she spoke, but he was honestly distracted as he tried to comfort his lover at the same time. He would have apologized and asked her to repeat herself, but the thought vanishes as her temper flares and she insults them both. He can feel Enki’s fingers clutch the fur around his shoulders in a vice-like grip, and knows another wave of his anger is coming. There is no fighting it, and Ragnvaldr finds himself too busy repressing his own rage to keep the Priest in place. Enki breaks free of Ragnvaldr’s embrace and stands up, slamming both hands down onto the table and leaning forward, his language venomous

“The beloved Captain you cared so deeply for has been dead for years, replaced with a disgusting husk that thinks of you as nothing more than a pawn! Oh, but lest we forget, he never really did care for you, did he?! Why else would you have been so unsure of his intentions even before you set foot in this place the first time?! Face it, he never cared about you and you are only hurting yourself clinging to an idealized memory of him!”

Ragnvaldr ground his teeth and he gripped the armrests of the chair so tightly he could have pulled them off. They weren’t going to stop. They would never Stop. He Would Make Them Stop.

He burst up from the chair with so much force that it was sent flying back, Enki whipping around at the sudden sound behind him. Ragnvaldr’s deep voice bellowed throughout the room as he shouted

“ENOUGH!”

Enki gripped the edges of the table in fear, looking up at the larger man as he glared down at him fiercely. 

“I have had enough of your squabbling! You-”

He jabs a finger into the shivering Priest’s chest, just below his rune pendant

“- will never be satisfied until you’ve driven away everyone that’s ever tried to care about you! I do not care if D’arce does not approve of us, and I trust her not to alert anyone about us! You can’t keep letting your fear and anger get the best of you, you’re better than that!”

His harsh gaze diverts to the lady-knight and he moves over to her, leaving Enki so shaken it feels as though he will fall over at any moment.

“And as for you- I do not need your approval to tell me who I can lay with, and I will not let you insult me and my lover to our faces! I have never tried to belittle your feelings for Le’garde, so don’t you dare belittle my feelings for Enki!”

He turns to his side so that he can see both of them, his arms spread accusingly as he continues

“You will both behave for the rest of this journey or I will ascend and I will kill the Yellow King myself!”

~~~

D'arce's breath hitches in her throat at the sound of Ragnvaldr's anger. Never had she witnessed something so threatening from him - she had experienced his rage only one other time, in Ma'havre, years ago as Le'garde had passed through its gates, but it had never been directed towards any of his party members before. She hardly has time to open her mouth in rebuttal to the Dark Priest before the argument is shut down by the most powerful presence known within these walls, easily silencing the two's bickering.

As the Outlander closes in on her she can feel herself instinctively shrink under his presence, shoulders caving under the weight of his scorn. It reminds her so heavily of her days as a squire, getting her knuckles whipped by knights at the first sign of slacking off: It was disappointment - that was what laid deep in Ragnvaldr's eyes. He was exhausted, disappointed, scared, and the Knight was left feeling... shameful. For the first time in their journey, her holy opinion had been bested, and she felt shameful for the words that had left her mouth only moments before.

As the man takes a step back and calms himself, she takes the moment as an invitation to excuse herself once more. She says nothing as she circles around back of Ragnvaldr, quickly ascending the stairs to the second story for a moment of privacy. 

~~~

As D’arce hurried away without a word Ragnvaldr felt little guilt- he had meant every word, and if it was too much for her to hear then she would need to get over it. He was so distracted in watching D’arce ascend the stairs that when he looked back down Enki was no longer next to him. He caught a flash of his black robes entering the doorway towards the inner sanctum, the man guaranteed to hide himself away in the darkest corner he could find. Ragnvaldr sighed in an attempt to slow his pounding heart, and walked back to the pile of books Enki had scattered on the floor. It was a pointless effort to pick up each book and place it back on the shelf but Ragnvaldr needed to do something. If everyone else was going to waste time sulking then he would have to keep himself busy.

Enki had indeed wandered into the inner sanctum, and now he stood on the very edge that Valteil had jumped over so long ago. He stared down into the abyss with his eyes glazed over and skin clammy from nervous sweat. Had Ragnvaldr truly meant it when he said he would ascend? Surely the Outlander had said it just to scare him, but if he did it had worked too well. He couldn’t bear the thought of Ragnvaldr abandoning him to fester away in that silent hall with the countless other self-righteous figures. Enki joining him in ascension would make no difference- he wanted to eat, sleep, love, to be alive with him. To hear his voice first thing in the morning, to feel the warmth of his touch, to grow old and die with him by his side. Enki’s miserable life had meant nothing before Ragnvaldr came into it, and without him it would mean nothing again. It was not a life he wanted to live.

Without even realizing it Enki had moved one foot off the edge of the platform towards the abyss. He gasped as he snapped out of whatever dark trance had taken hold of him, yanking his foot back onto the platform. He stumbled away from the edge in a panic and ended up tripping over himself, falling to the ground with a small yelp. He did not bother rising to his feet, letting his limbs spread out as his right arm covered his eyes in shame. He did not move for a long time, long enough that insects gathered around him again, whispering little encouragements to him

“Master, don’t go…”, “Master, please stay…”, “Your mate still needs you, Master…”, “Master, you still need him…”

He did not look at any of them, and his voice had no bite to it as he said

“You are a bunch of little cowards. You only come to ‘console’ me when I’m not moving”

“It is true…”, “Master would squish…”, “Master always squish when angry…”

“And yet you come, even when I don’t intend to summon you. Why is that?”

“We serve our Master…”, “We obey our Master…”

Enki feels a fluttering on his head and moves his arm so that he can see a white moth. The white moth from earlier perched on top of him

“We love our Master…”

The insects begin to crawl onto him, and there’s so many that they actually leave a weight on top of him. While anyone else would have been absolutely repulsed, to Enki it feels like a hug from the closest thing to a family he’s ever had. He lays there a while more, silent and unmoving, before finally commanding them off with a single word. He looks down at his subjects appreciatively before sending them off, the bugs scattering in all directions. The white moth is the last to leave, touching it’s antennae against him in an act comparable to a kiss. It flutters away happily, one white spec in the darkness before him. He smiles, as small and as brief as always, before turning around and heading back towards the main library.

He finds Ragnvaldr leaned against the tree that grows stubbornly out of the floor, the man carving something from a hunk of bark. Enki approaches slowly, his voice small and much too vulnerable as he asks

“Did you mean it?”

Ragnvaldr does not look up from his work

“Did I mean what?”

“That you would be the one to ascend. That you would leave me…”

Ragnvaldr puts down his project and looks up at Enki. He doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms towards him. Enki leans down and curls himself up into his lover’s lap, much more willfully this time. Ragnvaldr picks his project back up and continues carving around the Priest.

“I didn’t, and it was hurtful of me to say it”

“You scared me”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I meant what I said, I won’t tolerate you fighting with her anymore”

Enki doesn’t respond immediately, then asks

“How does her, or anyone’s, attitude about us not bother you?”

“I don’t have to prove to anyone that I’m happy. I am happy because I’m with you”

Enki closed his eyes and leaned his head on Ragnvaldr’s shoulder, more touched than he wanted to admit. After a bit he opened them again and truly looked at what Ragnvaldr was doing. It was a rune- a single line going down, then diagonally up, then down again. Enki looked at it curiously

“This one is… Sol?”

Ragnvaldr smiled gently

“That’s right. It brings success and solace to whoever holds it. This one is for D’arce. I already made yours”

Enki looked down around him, noticing for the first time the one by Ragnvaldr’s side. He picked it up and admired it gratefully. He held it against himself as he waited patiently for Ragnvaldr to finish his duplicate. Once he was done and they both put their pendants down Enki cupped Ragnvaldr’s cheeks in his hands and drew him into a kiss. It was long and purposeful, and when they finally parted for breath Enki said

“You should go deliver your gift to her, she’s had long enough to mope”

Ragnvaldr smirked, hugging the Priest tighter

“Look at you, thinking of her even before your own pleasure. You honestly don’t want to do anything more?”

“Don’t mock me, you ass. You think I want anything more with her above us like a vulture? Get her down so we can finally get moving again”

Ragnvaldr chuckled, giving his love a small squeeze before opening his arms to let him up. He grabbed his present and made his way over to the stairs, the ancient boards creaking under his weight as he went up them. When he came across the lady-knight he suddenly found himself unsure of what to say. He clutched the pendant in his left hand as he extended his right one to her, simply asking

“Are you willing to finish this, D’arce?”

~~~

In the furthest corner of the upstairs library, tucked away amidst the shelves and broken chairs, the Knight had slumped herself to the floor and finally come to terms with her emotions. It is the first time in days that she's gotten privacy away from the boys, and the first thing that D'arce does once she curls into that corner - is cry. 

She cries until her eyes itch and her nose runs red. She cries remembering her parents, the warm feeling of entering a church, her first successful sparring session, the taste of fresh bread on a Saturday; She allows her heart to ache and yearn for the companions she made and lost along the way, good men that died fighting Le'garde's battles, and Le'garde himself - or the man that she had originally fallen so deeply for. She thinks of wars and sacrifices and Gods, of the things that shaped her life and made it worth living, and the things that made her want to die. D'arce cries until there are no more tears to shed, and she is left sitting in isolation as the beckoning for ascension draws nearer.

It's only once Ragnvaldr approaches her some time later that she raises her gaze from the floorboard, her eyes trained on his outstretched hand. She reaches up to take it, but does not hoist herself up - instead she brings another hand forward, enveloping them around his own and gently tugging on it in an invitation to sit with her. 

The silence is not broken immediately; D'arce's hand still clutches the Outlander's, her grip tight and trembling as she tries to steady her breathing. She doesn't meet his eyes when she decides to speak up - it would be a step too far out of her comfort zone to be that transparent with him, but she finds enough courage to speak her mind one last time.

"I'm so scared, Ragnvaldr," she whispers, chewing at her lip. "I don't think I was ever this scared on our first journey, no matter what decrepit old god we had to fight - but this? It absolutely terrifies me.

"You and the Dark Priest find comfort in one another, even in some place as unforgiving as the dungeons are. You have something that you are fighting to keep and are willing to die to protect. I don't; I have nothing to return to once Le'garde is dead, and that scares me so much. I have no ties in Rondon, I'll have no occupation, no family left to turn to - and if I were to ascend and fail? I would just be another forgotten deity that died under the Yellow King's path to glory."

~~~

Ragnvaldr is momentarily caught off guard when D’arce tugs at him to sit down, but he quickly regains his composure and sits by her side. Her body is strong for her size, but it is her will that feels frail now. He listens to her intently this time, truly absorbing her intention to be the one to ascend. He lets her last sentence linger a moment before he finally speaks

“D’arce, I am grateful that you would even consider undertaking such an endeavor. I wish I meant it when I said I would do it, but I am too selfish. I am not… strong enough to be separated from Enki, and I don’t want to imagine what despair he would unleash upon the world should I leave him alone”

He turns to face her, his other hand leaving the pendant by his side so that he could touch her shoulder

“But know that I also care for you, very much. It is not only me, but Cahara and even Enki, we would all miss you terribly. We can be a better family than the one that shares your blood, we were always willing to do so. You were never, and you would never be, forgotten by the three of us”

He draws her into a tight embrace, silently wishing that his body alone was a strong enough barricade for his companion’s troubles. Eventually he pulls away, reaching down for the pendant and placing it in her hand

“A rune from my people, to grant you clarity in the mission ahead. When you succeed I want to see that you still have it. Alright?”

~~~

Ragnvaldr's kind words only succeed in bringing tears to her eyes once more; Her free hand claps over them quickly, furiously scrubbing them clear as she holds back another breakdown. The moment that he decides to embrace her her arms snake around his neck, face pressed into his shoulder as she tries her hardest to steady her breathing.

She was going to have to ascend. She would be the one to kill Le'garde.

To ensure the well-being of her family, she would have to.

As she leans back and admires the sigil in her hand, her gaze finally meets the Outlander's - it's still as teary-eyed as he had first found her, but there is a newfound strength somewhere behind them after listening to the man's encouragement. 

"And if I can't come back?" she asks hesitantly, furrowing her brow at the thought. She's quick to shake her head at the musing, however, clutching the rune in her fist. "I'll send a sign to you then - somehow."

She allows herself one last wipe at her face before hoisting herself up, now offering her hand back to help him off the floor. "Best to get it over with before my confidence wavers again, yes? Is Enki alright?"

~~~

“You can ask him yourself”

The barbarian answers with a small smile, walking alongside her in comfortable silence until they reunite with the Dark Priest. He is sitting on top of the desk, one leg crossed over the other as he absent-mindedly peruses a journal. Once he notices them approaching he puts down the book but does not immediately stand up. Ragnvaldr crosses his arms and gives him a smirk

“Just how much did you hear, anyway?”

Enki puts his hand to his chest and jerks his head back in an overblown display of indignation

“I was not eavesdropping, if that is what you’re insinuating, but you two were hardly whispering. I know that you were speaking for me, again”

Ragnvaldr looks unimpressed

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t miss D’arce? At all?”

Enki puts his hand down and quickly looks away, but soon rolls his eyes and stands up off the table. He puts his hands on his hips and looks at D’arce despite Ragnvaldr being the one to ask the question

“What do you want me to say? That I suddenly agree with everything you stand for and can suddenly accept everything you’ve said? Because I don’t. But-”

His determined gaze begins to falter

“-I don’t want you dead. Anymore. And I think you’re intentions are very… brave. I think you stand a greater chance against the Yellow King than you believe; you’ve already freed yourself from his captivating spell, and that alone has won over more kingdoms than any of his military efforts. I want you to come back to us because I enjoy a challenge, and you are a very challenging person to be around”

Enki crosses his arms and looks away from the lady-knight. After a brief silence Ragnvaldr does his best to prevent his chuckle from becoming full-blown laughter.

“Oh, Enki, that was so close to being something a normal person would say! You’re getting better at this!”

Enki glares daggers at the larger man, his voice indignant

“You shut your mouth before I shut it for you! Gods Above, you’re both exhausting!”

~~~

At face value, Enki's words are exactly what she had expected: Unforgiving, cold, and short with her, as he had always defaulted to in their relationship - but as he continues onwards, past his superficial persona, D'arce finds it difficult to bite back a weak smile. It certainly wasn't the most heartwarming of speeches, but, coming from the Dark Priest, it was more than enough of a gesture of peace. 

"Then we should pray that I make it out of this alive - so that I may… continue to be a challenge for you," she jokes lightly, chuckling alongside Ragnvaldr. She tucks the sigil into a pocket along her beltline, clasping it carefully before straightening herself and beginning the journey out of the library. A few paces away from the entryway she slows down, turning back towards them with a thoughtful look still resting in her eyes. 

"I am… sorry for how I've mistreated the two of you today. I appreciate you understanding my fears, but it's hardly any excuse to lash out at you the way that I did. I wasn't so sure that I would have the time to express that once we entered The Void, so I… I wanted to make sure that you heard it from me before I go." 

Whether or not they react is something she doesn't watch nor wait for; The Knight is quick to resume her stride out the door, shoulders pulled back as they worked their way back to the heart of the city.

~~~

Enki’s face burns with now-silent embarrassment as D’arce joins in on the laughter, but he is not able to linger on it as she quickly moves ahead. When she pauses at the doorway he listens to her apology and her concerns, but is not given a chance to respond before she moves onward. He would not have had much to say anyway, neither of them would; what more could they say to thank her for throwing her life away so that they could remain together? It was best to let her maintain her courage and her dignity as long as possible. Instead, as the two men begin to walk after her, Enki turns to Ragnvaldr and says

“Don’t you think it diminishes the impact of your gift if I have one too? Unless you think I’d be so childish as to get jealous that she had one and I didn’t?”

Ragnvaldr shakes his head slightly, his face sad

“No, it’s really for both of us. It may become the last thing we have to remember her by”

Enki’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then furrow into a somber expression. The two say no more as they quicken their pace to catch up, the party moving along in silence.

-

The three had no serious trouble as they approached the Golden Temple, aside from circumventing a Harvestman before it could spot them. Entering the temple felt so different compared to the first time, knowing that there would be no New God waiting for them at the other end, and it was now possible to truly appreciate the wonder of architecture before them. The flames that shot up from the floor were as easy to avoid as ever, and soon enough they all stood before the grand throne. While his body was long-gone, François’ helmet still lay by the throne after all this time, a grim reminder of the actions the group had to take the first time the dungeons called to them.

As D’arce stands before the throne Ragnvaldr dares not break the silence that has developed between them, worried a single word could make any one of them call it off. Instead he places a hand on D’arce’s shoulder, silently offering his support and prayers. He is surprised when Enki follows suit of his own accord, placing his own hand on her other shoulder, though he keeps his eyes focused on the throne. After a moment they withdraw, allowing D’arce to be seated first. Ragnvaldr follows, and Enki is last to be blinded by the brilliant light of the throne and enter into the green wasteland of the Void.

~~~

This was it.

The Void.

When the blinding light fades into nothing but muddled grey hues, D’arce opens her eyes and finds herself alone again. Nothing on this earth rivals the feeling of emptiness that The Void holds - it is the place that Gods are birthed and humans die, where nothingness and endlessness blur together amidst green mist and the ever-flowing passage of time - and D’arce is placed in the dead center of it, walking the fine line between life and immortality, preparing herself to hold her sword against The Yellow King.

For the longest time she walks through the cold mist in silence, feeling the dull vibrations of passersby through her boots and the hum of being seeping through the cracks in the stones. What she’s looking for is a mystery - Le’garde’s ascension was something she never truly got to witness, and it’s unknown when it will find her or how long she will have to travel before she is able to receive it. She wanders the twisting maze of mountains for what feels like months in search of anything: Ragnvaldr, Enki, herself - anything that would give her more guidance than The Void has halfheartedly offered to her.

Time is nothing and yet everything. Hunger is insatiable and yet nonexistent all at once, and she finds that the only thing she craves anymore in this sorrowful trial is her companions. 

One last staircase down into the unknown, and D’arce freezes. The weight of her sword is suddenly unbearable against her hip as her eyes meet gentle blue ones from within the mist, ones that only she could recognize so clearly after all this time. 

Despite all of her worst fears, he had not forgotten about her. Not today.

~~~

More so than any other creature he had encountered, it was the Molded that struck Enki with a primal fear. They were simply so off, so close to being human yet so far removed at the same time, that it was hard for even his clever brain to process. He did his best to avoid them as he searched silently for Ragnvaldr and D’arce. He dared not call out, for the massive beast that stalked the plains would only find him faster if he did. When he could feel it’s presence nearby he felt no shame, no emotion at all as he ducked into one of the little burrows. This land was not made for humans, and he wanted to be out of it as quickly as possible.

He had no idea how long it was until he came across Ragnvaldr. He was staring into one of the green pools as though something was beckoning him towards it. Enki hurried over to him and tugged at his arm, managing to snap him out of whatever trance he was under. Enki did not look into the pool himself as he guided Ragnvaldr away from it, concerned about the weary expression his lover wore. There was little time to dwell on that, however, as the two of them had to duck to the ground to avoid the piercing grasp of a flying blight. That seemed to snap Ragnvaldr back to the present, the larger man growling in a mix of fear and frustration

“I cannot stand this Hellhole any longer! We must find D’arce before I truly go insane!”

Enki nodded grimly, sticking close by the barbarian’s side as they continued their trek. After another eternity of walking, another blink of an eye, the two could see her in the distance. Ragnvaldr called out to her, relief clear in his voice

“D’arce, there you are!”

She did not turn in their direction, did not even move. She was frozen in place by fear, if her rigid posture was anything to go by. It wasn’t until they came closer that another figure became present through the fog, one that they had become far too familiar with

It was Le’garde.

The two hurried over to D’arce, falling into place at either side of her. Enki looked to the lady-knight with fear in his eyes and a tad of accusation in his voice

“Why is he here? D’arce, what is he doing here?!”

Ragnvaldr said nothing, his own body frozen in place, barely containing his rage. His fists clenched and body shivered, eyes glaring intently at that serene smile. He felt as though he had been thrown five years back in time, staring at the Prophesised One as he reveled in the party’s collective failure. How could this be happening again?

~~~

The presence of two new bodies beside her does not pull D'arce out of her quivering trance - rather it is Enki's voice alone, barking into her right ear in just the same panic as she feels, that finally elicits a response out of her. Her eyes stay locked on Le'garde's figure, and so does his upon her, both watching for the first sign of movement in one another that would deem a fight necessary. 

"I didn't call him here," she whispers, hardly able to steady her own voice. "Enki, I swear to you, I didn't..."

D'arce lips are still parted with the intent of defending herself more, but her jaw quickly tightens as the Yellow King's aura silences her; The Void itself already leaves them with an immense feeling of despair, and, combined with the New God's presence, it is even more so, crippling her into listening as the King himself interjects.

"You surprise me so, D'arce," His mouth never moves, and yet she can hear his voice as though he were standing right in front of her, clear as day and impossible to ignore. "Abandoning your post... deceiving your God... after all that I have done for you... after how I spared you from a gruesome death within the Void - and now you have come to rival me?" The very ground that they stand on vibrates as he chuckles, his words drunk with a power unbeknownst to them in their mortal states. 

"Your trio has killed Gods weaker than me, but that was long before you devoted your soul to my practice. Tell me, who will truly protect you in the cleansing of our new world: your God, your captain, whom you have entrusted your life with for a decade - or these lower-class brutes whose motives rely only on spite and revenge for deaths that were destined in the very stars? The removal of Oldegärdians was a necessary practice in the greater scheme of things and you know that, Cataliss. That is why you unsheathed your sword and stood by me as we approached it.

"Stand down, D'arce. We still have work that must be done.*"

D'arce's fists tremble the longer Le'garde speaks on her behalf. Stand down, stand down, he says - I will protect you if you stand down.

Her fingers wrap around the handle of her sword and remove the weapon from its holster, allowing it to dangle in her grasp along her side. The blade does not turn towards her teammates, however - rather, it is still splayed outwards at the Yellow King, eyes boring holes through his figure as his words soak into her brain.

~~~

Enki wants to believe D’arce, wants to trust that she is just as shocked and disturbed by the situation as he is, but this all seems too convenient. Why else would Le’garde’s top Knight have come to the dungeons, if not to lure the ones most capable of toppling him to their doom? He wants to vocalize his fears, but he is driven to silence as the Yellow King speaks wordlessly to them all. As he continues, it becomes clear that there was no elaborate ruse- D’arce truly had come here to stop Le’garde. He finds no relief in this revelation, for it only means they are a different kind of doomed.

Enki winces as the mention of Oldegärd’s destruction. He glances over to Ragnvaldr with a mixture of concern and shame. It sickened him to put any stock in the Yellow King’s words, but without Ragnvaldr’s loss there would have been no room in his life for the Priest. Though it was a very different fate than the one the Yellow King envisioned, perhaps the decimation of Ragnvaldr’s village was a necessary evil to bring Enki the happiness he had found. Enki suddenly shook his head, steadfastly refusing to believe that such a callous thought could be his own- surely Le’garde was doing something to mess with their minds?

If Ragnvaldr thought he was angry at the mere sight of Le’garde, it was nothing compared to the vile words he spewed with holy indifference. He found himself taking a step forward even as his body quaked in protest. His mouth was a vicious snarl as he finally found the courage he had been lacking the first time the Yellow King stood before him

“Why was it necessary, you monster?! You say it was fate, but I say your fate is a sham! My people’s blood fuels your conquest no longer; I will finally have my revenge, even if I must ascend to do it!”

Enki lets out an audible gasp at Ragnvaldr’s declaration. Reflexively he reached a hand out to D’arce’s shoulder, as though silently begging her to steady her sword

“Y-you don’t mean that! Ragnvaldr, you’re not thinking clearly!”

“Quiet, Priest!”

The Outlander whirls around on his party with an animalistic look in his eyes. He is terrifying in his own right, a spectre of vengeance willing to turn on anything that moved

“I will choose my fate now, and I would rather die trying than yield to this monster once more! Is that an evil you deem necessary?!”

Enki’s hand yanks away from D’arce shoulder and he takes a step back, clutching tightly into his hair. Had- had Ragnvaldr heard his thoughts? Was it this place, or was it Le’garde’s doing? Enki’s breathing became fast and shallow as he began to panic, seeing the trio’s plans so easily crumble away without the Yellow King having to make a move.

They were doomed from the start. He should have known.

~~~

"Enough!!"

Never, in all of the Knight's travels with the boys, had she ever raised her voice against them with such venom. It was not a request that D'arce was pleading for - it was an order, shrill and piercing as she knocks Ragnvaldr's shoulder in passing. Her free hand moves to clasp the Oldegardian's wrist long before he has a chance to search for his weapon, drawing nearer to his face as her voice lowers.

"Ragnvaldr, have you no sense now?" she hisses, her chin tilted high to ensure that their eyes do not break contact amidst her scorning. "Have we truly traveled all this way, gone through all of these trials and tribulations, just for you to turn against your own word?"

Briefly, her eyes break away from their gaze to glance at the Dark Priest behind them, her head following the motion in the hopes that Ragnvaldr's attention will be drawn to him too. "Your well-being is no longer only your concern; You cannot just toss your life out the window because some two-faced God wants to see you squirm in the Void.

"We have already made this decision - I have already made this decision. I am the one who is ascending; I am the one who is not returning to Rondon. You are not going to crumble under the first blows that Le'garde delivers, and especially when it comes at the expense of everything you have worked towards!"

The air surrounding them feels as though it vibrates with an untapped power as the Yellow King straightens his posture in anticipation. Someone would be ascending today - trying their hand at dethroning him from the place that he risked everything to achieve - and one of them would not be making it out alive by the end of it.

It was time to find out who was destined to sit on the throne. 

~~~

Ragnvaldr’s eyes widen as D’arce’s voice echoes into the barren land, and he is too surprised to free himself from her grasp. His rage gnaws inside him like a starving wolf, but D’arce’s reason comes to muzzle and subdue his feral side. Her words rang true; as he looks over to Enki his heart aches with worry upon seeing his partner so panicked. He would never forgive Le’garde for what he had done, but he had to accept that his first family was gone. Now he had someone else to care for, someone still breathing that needed him now- someone he had nearly forsaken in reverence to long-dead ghosts of the past. Whether or not he had been put under a spell, he had nearly ruined everything in the name of his own selfish ends. 

He nodded silently in reply before gently removing D’arce’s grip and approaching the Priest. Enki had not seemed to notice their conversation; too caught up in his own head, as he often tended to be. He had gotten himself too attached to the barbarian and now he needed him, as much as Ragnvaldr needed Enki. He truly did not want for D’arce to have to make this sacrifice, but more than anything he did not want to be separated from his partner. Slowly but confidently he placed a hand on the Dark Priest’s shoulder.

Enki looked in Ragnvaldr’s direction at once, as though realizing where they were for the first time. He lowered his hands from his hair and placed one over Ragnvaldr’s, his breathing quickly steadying. When he looked in D’arce’s direction the expression on his face surprised the Oldegärdian; he looked like a child seeing their father off to war, knowing in his heart that he would not be seeing him again.

He looked like he didn’t want her to leave.

~~~

There was no more room for fickle conversation any longer. With Ragnvaldr finally realizing the set destiny she had in the Void, the man steps away from the impending battle, singling D'arce out as the only body prepared to take on The Yellow King in her ascension. 

The Knight has spent her entire journey in fear: She has feared Le'garde (far before reentering the dungeons, even), she has feared ascension, feared having to raise her hand against him and abandoning everything that might have been left for her in the real world. But now, with the blessings of her two previous teammates behind her, D'arce has come to find that she is no longer afraid. She feels empowered. She does not need Alll-mer's blessing to succeed in this battle - she /knows/ that she will succeed. Her sword weighs heavy at her hip, already so eager to be unleashed and prove herself to anyone there who will witness it one last time. 

She locks eyes with the two of them to convey her final 'goodbye', lips never parting to grant them any comfort. Words would only pain the three of them, and she can't bear the thought of their sorrows this far into the dungeons. She's made amends as best as she can and left them to carry on with the lives they best deserved - there was no backing out now.

When her attention is finally wrenched away from the boys, it does not focus on the King's figure immediately - something lies in between them, its silver armor and longsword catching the green hues of the Void as it faces her opponent before her, unmoving in the fog. Whether the apparition is visible to anyone else is a mystery, but there it stands: A near perfect shadow of D'arce Cataliss, fists clenched at her sides and an aura of godhood surrounding her. Whether it be a premonition, a prophecy, or a positive omen, D'arce welcomes it without question; Its presence means that she is ready to accept her destiny.

One hand unsheathes her sword while the other works to untie the small pouch at her waist, gripping Ragnvaldr's handcrafted rune as she finally finds the courage to advance forward to meet Herself. 

The air around them turns cold, just as Le'garde's gaze does. His hand raises as the former Knight of the Midnight Suns approaches her ascension, fingertips deathly still as an orb begins to accumulate at him palm.

"You disappoint me."

-

The second that D'arce's form melds with her ascended, there is nothing left except a blinding flash of light. When it fades, there is no longer a Yellow King. There is no longer a D'arce Cataliss, nor is there a Void. There is dying grass and husks of trees surrounding the Dark Priest and Outlander, and the dungeon's silhouette far over the hills as a thunderous storm brews overhead, already beginning to trickle down on top of them. 

~~~

Enki could barely make out a shadowy entity between D’arce and Le’garde, one that seemed to captivate the lady Knight and give her the confidence she needed to approach the Yellow King. As soon as she made contact with the formless being a white light momentarily blinded the Dark Priest, and when his sight returned he and Ragnvaldr were left far outside the influence of the dungeons. The first thing he felt as soon as he took hold of his surroundings was anger; he let out a wailing growl up to the sky as the rain began to fall harder

“It was all pointless! We went there for nothing! I had us go there for nothing! All I have to show for it is a wound through my side and an ache in my chest! I hate this!”

Ragnvaldr watched in silence as Enki ranted and raved, turning his attention down to the earth to kick at any rock or twig unfortunate enough to be in his path. Through the complaints and the screams he still managed to catch his quip about an ache in his chest, and he knew instantly what he meant. Slowly he approached the Priest and placed his arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a tight embrace. Enki squirmed at first, but quickly let himself sink against his lovers form and bury his face against his chest. Ragnvaldr’s voice was low and soft as he spoke

“I miss her, too”

It was hard to hear Enki’s muffled reply through the rain, but he managed to make it out

“This is so stupid. I wanted her gone for so long, why should I start caring now? She was a Knight of the Midnight Sun, she was overbearing and self-righteous, she-she-”

“She was your friend, and she cared about you enough to let you live the life you wanted”

“But why? Why would she do that when I was so awful to her?”

“I can’t answer that, Enki. Maybe in time you can come to your own conclusion”

For a good moment they just stood there in silence, letting the rain soak them to the bone. Eventually Ragnvaldr gently pulled Enki away from him, who looked up at the larger man with an exhausted expression. The smile he gave in return was small and tight, as he tried his best to be hopeful enough for the both of them. What would they do if D’arce failed? Would they ever know her fate? Would the Yellow King focus his attention onto the two mortals that had dared to challenge his reign? He had no answers, and it filled him with a deep sense of dread that rivaled the atmosphere of the dungeons. 

But they had no choice; they had to live the rest of their lives, however long they may be, to the best of their ability. They owed it to D’arce, to her sacrifice and to the blessing she had bestowed upon them. Ragnvaldr took Enki’s hand in his own and leaned down until their foreheads were touching. The Dark Priest sighed, letting his eyes close and basking in his lover’s touch. Without the need for words Ragnvaldr could tell Enki felt the same way he did, and he was so proud of his partner for embracing D’arce the way he had. Silently the two of them pulled apart, beginning their long, cold trek back to Rondon.

-

Cahara had greeted them excitedly when he first answered the door, but his expression fell when he saw that D’arce was not with them. He beckoned his two friends inside and sat them by the fire to warm up, instructing Calla to portion out for them some of the porridge they had been about to eat. Ragnvaldr wanted to be polite and decline, but he was far too hungry to do so. Besides, Cahara had enough money to ensure food for his family for quite a while, thanks to D’arce’s generous donation. 

Cahara looked more and more stern the longer Ragnvaldr recounted their escapades past his departure, until he reached the battle with Le’garde and he muttered scornfully

“I shoulda been there. I could’ve taken her place…”

“Don’t play the hero now” Enki said, his words harsh but his tone sympathetic “You left because you have your family to look after, we all understood that. You know we would take care of your family financially as much as we were able, but that would mean very little to them should anything happen to you. No, she made her choice, there’s nothing any of us can do about it now”

Cahara opened his mouth to protest, but he had nothing of value to say. He lowered his head and sighed, and the three of them were left to dwell on their memories of the lady Knight in a heavy, somber silence. That was until Calla let out an ‘ah, ah!’ of surprise, and everyone looked toward her. She was pointing out the window, at the bright ray of sunlight they had not noticed seeping into the house. It was so bright, but they could still hear the rain outside, so the three of them stood up to see just what was going on.

When they went outside the answer became clear; Cahara’s house was bathed in a circle of sunlight, while heavy rain came through the clouds in the sky as far as the eye could see. Curious, Enki took a few steps forward and reached his arm out passed the light- sure enough, his lower arm became drenched while his upper arm was left untouched. He pulled his arm back and looked towards the others, just as bewildered as they were. Then Ragnvaldr’s eyes widened with realization

“Enki, take out the rune I gave you”

Enki quirked an eyebrow at him but did as he was told, fishing it out of his pocket and presenting it to the barbarian. Ragnvaldr smiled, bright and genuine this time, as he proclaimed

“Sol, it means ‘sun’! This is a sign, D’arce is giving us a sign that she is alright!”

Enki looked down at the rune, then up to the sky in wonder, as Ragnvaldr and Cahara laughed and smiled with new-found mirth. As the Dark Priest gazed through the clouds, a small yet grateful smile spread across his lips as well.

-

Months had passed since D’arce had delivered her sign, and neither she nor the Yellow King ever returned. Rather quickly the nations that had been under Le’garde’s influence renounced him as a false prophet, burning his symbols and returning to the status quo. With no one to lead them the Knights of the Midnight Sun disbanded once more, this time for good. Whether or not these turn of events would prove beneficial to mankind remained to be seen, but to Ragnvaldr they brought about a sense of peace he had not experienced in years. He no longer had to wander the lands in constant reminder of his past, and now he could look with hope and pride towards the future.

Ragnvaldr and Enki joined Cahara and his family on a day around town, gathering supplies for supper from the marketplace. Celeste had given birth to a beautiful girl named Constance, with the little babe slung behind her mother’s shoulders as she browsed the freshest vegetables. Ragnvaldr held Crispin’s hand through the crowded streets as Enki spoke with Calla, using the hand-language that the two of them had developed together. Cahara was a bit ahead of the group, haggling with a vendor for the best price on mutton. He looked away in exasperation at the vendor’s stubbornness when a familiar form caught his attention. He put a hand up towards the vendor dismissively as he took a step into the crowd, and it was then that he became certain of what he saw. He let out an excited noise that caught the rest of the group’s attention before dashing toward the figure, causing the rest of them to drop what they were doing and hurry after him. 

Just what had gotten into him?

~~~

It had felt like decades since D’arce had last felt the sun on her face.

The smog of Ma’havre and its Void finally cleared from her lungs after a few heaving breaths outside of the dungeon’s walls, and the first thing that the Knight’s reborn voice does in its liberation is cry. 

Le’garde, The Yellow King, was no longer of this earth. By D’arce’s hand he fell - and, after eons spent in The Void after his expiration, she finds the strength to abandon her ascended body and return to the mortal world. 

It takes days to return to Rondon by foot. The first thing to go is the armor upon her back, sold for a pretty penny in exchange for lighter blouses and skirts that ease the burden of travel. Her mind is muddled with thoughts that no common man ought to know - knowledge of the universe, of the Gods that we pray to, and what lies beyond our inevitable demise - that the thought of simple necessities is pushed to the back of her mind in favor of pressing on in her journey; She does not find the effort to eat until her head aches terribly; She does not sleep until her body physically cannot move another foot, and even then it is only the briefest rest to regain her strength. When she closes her eyes, she still sees green hues and blood-stained stone walls behind her eyelids. 

By comparison, Rondon's arched gate is night and day from the dungeon's maw, and it welcomes her with open arms as she approaches the bustling shopping district. Kind faces pass her by in a blur, bumping shoulders with her as they squeeze through the strip to collect their goods, and she cannot help but beam back at each and every one. The sun stings her shoulders even through her attire, and a conglomeration of smells and sounds draw her every which way through the city.

What should have been disorienting and overwhelming to her right now was instead taken as a liberation. This was what it was to be alive - to be in the midst of the beauty, the sadness, the challenges and rewards of communication and relationships. No sort of ascension could ever replicate this feeling.

At first instinct she attempts to weave her way through the traffic to Cahara’s home, fingers tightly crossed that the man was still around and could deliver the news of her safe return - but she hardly makes it halfway through the crowds before a familiar face catches her eye. One face becomes two, then three, until finally a pair of pale eyes meet her own through the bustle of the street.

D’arce smiles - something more bright and genuine than the dungeons would have ever drawn out of her - and watches as the Mercenary knocks shoulders with every passing citizen between them before finally scooping her up by the waist, sending her squealing in delight as she’s swung around in his arms.

Cahara only drops her once her halfhearted pleas finally breach his relief, albeit it is replaced with his firm hands holding her shoulders tightly, surveying her every which way with a proud look. “Surprised to see that you survived the afterlife, dollface. Did the Gods fit you for that dress, too?”

He only snickers as she smacks his arm, and D’arce tries her hardest to look more sour about the comment. “Oh-- don’t act like you aren’t pleased to see me, you absolute deserter!”

“Cynic.”

“Snake.”

Another grin. “... It’s good to have you back, D’arce.”

-

The sitting room of Cahara’s cottage is swimming with laughter and the smell of good food as our four heroes exchange stories depicting their months spent apart. Ragnvaldr has always been a storyteller by trade and entertains them the most, and the rest of them playfully bicker amidst the tales as they suggest that this is what actually happened, and I certainly don’t remember it going nearly like that!

As Cahara ventures off into a “brave” story depicting his first trek to the dungeons (and bothering his wife so as she stands nearby, rolling her eyes at his exaggerations), D’arce’s gaze drifts over to the two men that sit opposite of her in the room. Her bowl resting in her lap, she gently moves to undo a string clasp on her apron and withdraws from it a small wooden token - with a single line going down the face of it, then diagonally up, then down again - and rests the sigil on the table beside her, casting a gentle smile towards them before her attention is turned back to the man and his tales. She doesn’t have to watch them to know that it is received, and that alone is enough to make her heart swell sweetly.

No. Ascension could never replicate this sort of thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
